


Complementary Colors

by CrimsonRaven



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Universe, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Mild Angst, Mild Smut, Mistral the Dog, Pavel the Dog, Scared Interns, Symbra if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 13:56:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12913320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonRaven/pseuds/CrimsonRaven
Summary: They never expected to adore each other. Never expected to love each other. Spend so much time together. They complemented each other. More than anyone initially thought.---A few fluffy one-shots of Moira and Mercy all set in the same universe. Possible minor angst, but with a happy ending.





	1. Idle Hands

Moira's head rested on the back of the couch in her office. Red hair brushed against the wall behind it. Mismatched eyes stared at the ceiling. Her left hand tapped on the armrest to a beat only she could hear. Long fingers flexed against the soft fabric.

She heard the whispers. She knew what they said. Sure, she may not speak much to anyone outside of her lab and is a little on the taller side, but that didn't mean she was the intimidating mad scientist they all thought she was. Okay, so maybe she glared at the new Overwatch recruits (and some of the older ones if she remembered correctly...) in the morning when they're being too loud. She might be turning into an urban legend with how fast and often they gossip. Maybe she could test that. For science, of course. The variables would be interesting, that's for sure.

"I can hear you thinking, Liebling. What's on your mind?"

Moira had forgotten that she wasn't alone until the soft voice interrupted her thoughts. Settling her right hand on the legs resting her lap, she looked at her companion with a slight tilt of her head. Her companion looked rather relaxed laying back onto the other half of the couch. 

She could make out the blonde hair in a signature ponytail, though a bit more on the disheveled side than it usually is. Blue eyes that were scanning the document in hand now looked up at her own. A simple grey sweater and a black pants reminded her that they had yet to change out of their work clothes. She was still in her own dark pants, shirt, and tie. Their lab coats hung abandoned on a coat rack across the room. Even as tired as they were, she could easily conclude that Angela was still as lovely as ever. 

Her lips twitched into a smile when she felt the fabric under her hand shift until the leg had nudged her stomach. Her left hand stopped tapping when she turned her head fully to face Angela.

"Impatient. Aren't we, dear one?" she said. She watched Angela's chest rise with a playful scoff. "If you must know," she continued, "I was wondering what variables are needed for a brief social experiment."

"Is this because of the recruits that scattered when you turned to look at them during dinner?" She watched Angela's eyebrow rise at her.

"Silence is golden. They were being rather rude and noisy. I was too tired to sit through it, and now the couriers shake too much during deliveries since they've talked to the damn recruits." A dramatic sigh was only barely contained behind a grin. "Those deliveries contain very fragile materials, Dr. Zeigler." Her thumb rubbed small circles onto Angela's leg. Her smile turned soft when she heard a chuckle at the teasing. 

"Please. We both know that if they were truly that fragile, you’d fetch them yourself.” 

“Irrelevant.”

“What were you planning to do to those poor souls?”

“A social experiment. Nothing more. A bit of a lesson even. Ignorance cannot be allowed to fester.” Moira couldn’t help snicker at the planned mischief. “How else can I alleviate my boredom?” Tilting her head back towards the ceiling, she closed her eyes and began to calculate the little details of how to best put the gossipmongers in their place.

“I can think of better ways.” 

Moira felt a tug at her collar and then a sudden weight on her lap. Opening her eyes, she looked forward and her sight was met with a familiar blue. A soothing warmth filled her chest. 

“And what is this method of yours? Am I familiar with it?” The warmth spread to her limbs. The heat grew intense where Angela’s hand rested on her shoulder, thumb brushing the column of her neck. She raised her hands until they sat on Angela’s hips, drawing her closer until she was being properly straddled. The approving hum above her sent her stomach into welcome knots.

“I’d say you are very familiar with it. A personal favorite of yours I believe.” 

The tugging at her collar tightened for a moment. She didn’t need to look down to know that her tie was wrapped around a firm hand. 

“Then what are you waiting for, dear one?”

“Hush, Liebling.” 

Obeying, she followed the pull of her tie until there was nothing between them. She’ll think of variables and recruits some other time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really wanted some fluffy and loving moicy. Literally all I want in life. The angst, drama, and sexual tension gets me, but fluff is my soul food. 
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	2. I've Got You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela gets to work to keep Moira alive after she experiments on herself.

Angela had woken during the night expecting to find a familiar body, but was confused when her arm stretched to meet an empty pillow. Moira had said earlier that she might be late to bed, but it’s been hours and had yet to show. Adjusting her night shirt, she moved to the edge of the bed. There was a brief moment of grogginess before it was ignored. She stood with a yawn and a quick stretch. Reaching to the waistband of her sweatpants, she adjusted the tie as they tried to slip from her smaller frame. Their original owner was much taller. Not bothering with shoes, she exited her quarters and began the trek to Moira's lab. She wanted her bedmate back. 

It was late and Moira was nowhere to be seen. The base was quiet save the soft padding of her feet. The dim lighting helped with navigation, but it wasn't much. It was chillier at night if the goosebumps on her skin were anything to go by. The haze of sleep caused the route to feel longer than before. 

Eventually, she arrived at the door to the lab. She paused before gripping the handle. There was an odd clenching in her stomach, one she recognized, but hated. One that meant trouble. She had always listened to her instincts and now was a good time to continue that practice. In the blink on an eye, the sleep haze seemed to clear and her back was straight. Her knuckles turned white after gripping the door handle. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. No one was around to hear the door slamming open. Neither were they around to hear the sharp intake of breath that echoed in the empty halls.

Angela moved at a speed that would put her Valkyrie suit to shame. Dashing to the examination chair at the back of the room, she focused her attention on its sprawled occupant.

Moira was unconscious. Her skin was deathly pale and her breathing was ragged and uneven. Sharp clothing was wrinkled from sweat. Her right arm was shaking on the armrest. Veins pulsed a sickly purple. The skin around them was scarring alarmingly fast and turning a pale violet. Her nails were longer and sharper, reminding Angela of claws. The multiple tubes, cables, and sensors attached to her body were torn, leaving a barrier of sparks that would make anyone hesitant. There was a cacophony of sound on the monitors from the few sensors still connected to her body. 

Angela moved to the computer to read the data. Sweat began to bead on her forehead. She couldn't just rip Moira out of the chair without possibly making everything worse. Her jaw clenched as she took in the skyrocketing vitals and warning alerts strewn on the screen. Finding the information she needed, she moved back to Moira and carefully removed the broken wires to replace them with fresh ones. She searched for the IV in the crook of her elbow and reconnected it to the machine. The bloodstains from the torn IV were near invisible against the black of Moira's shirt. The dried blood coating Moira's left palm and pants were more prominent. Looking at Moira's pained face left a lump of concern wedged in her throat. Pushing it back, she focused back onto the main computer. She forced herself to ignore the red now staining her hand.

Furious typing filled the room. Turning around, she saw the IV begin filling with a glowing yellow liquid. She watched the nanites enter into Moira's arm. Satisfied, she turned back to the monitor and studied the new data. It was slow, but Moira's vitals started to stabilize and lower to her normal levels. Angela's shoulders began to relax. 

Stepping back from the monitor, she pulled out the chair from the desk and brought it over the exam chair. Setting the chair next to Moira's experimented arm, she gently began to trace the glowing, purple veins with her fingers. The scarred flesh was rough under her touch. Moira's skin was colder than usual. The violet coloring began to fade until it eventually returned to its normal color, if a bit on the pale side. She slipped her hand into Moira's trembling one, shivering at the cold touch. Moira's breathing started to steady. Her brows furrowed when she noticed the glow in her veins travel upwards towards Moira's face once it began to lose the pained expression. She held her panic tight as she watched the veins circle Moira's right eye. The only thing stopping her was the reminder of the discussion they had about the effects on the rabbits. It was odd, but harmless and cosmetic only. Angela's shoulders sagged. The knot in her stomach began to dissipate and she felt more tired than she's ever been. She didn't notice that her eyes began to close or her head dropping onto their clasped hands. 

It wasn't until she startled awake did she realize she had fallen asleep. The hand clasped between hers had shifted and their fingers were now entangled. She stared at the smooth skin held in her grip. The scarring appeared to have vanished, and the claws now looked like their pristine form from before, almost as if it's always been an ordinary hand. Moira's other one was busy running her fingers through Angela's chaotic mane to gently smooth it down. Golden strands fell through her fingers when the hand came down to rest on her cheek. Angela couldn't help but lean into the touch. Looking up, she saw that Moira was still paler than usual, but the veins on the right of her face had receded and the ones on her arm had stopped glowing, but still looked tinted in purple. Wild, red hair was matted with sweat and dropped onto her face. She looked tired, but fine. However, there was a new detail that drew Angela's focus. She removed one of her hands clasped that claspd around Moira's and brought it up to Moira's chin. She turned Moira's head to get a better look. An eye that was once bright blue, was now an eerie red.

"Can you see out of it?" she asked. It may have been harmless, but that was on nonhuman test subjects. She needed to be sure that Moira wasn't blinded by her foolishness. 

Moira removed her hand from Angela's cheek and brought it up to take the one holding her chin. 

"I can, yes," Moira's voice was rough, but it brought immense comfort. "It was a tad sore at first, but appears to have stopped. It feels no different anymore. An expected side-effect. The rabbits had experienced minor discomfort at first, but no long term negative effects beyond the color change." Moira closed eyes and hummed in thought before opening them again. "Did only one change? My left eye felt no different in comparison." Angela nodded. 

Angela's eyes began to tear up. Bringing their joined hands to her forehead, she let out a strangled sob. The relief was overwhelming. The trembling hand was no longer Moira’s, but her own. Her eyes had screwed shut when she felt her hand being pulled away from her forehead. The grip remained strong and she felt herself being lifted up and out of her chair. She followed the hand leading her around the arm rest, then onto the empty space of the chair. Her head landed on Moira’s chest. Moira let go of her hand and wrapped her arms about Angela’s back to tuck her into her side. Angela felt Moira rest her cheek on the top of her head. The soft beating of Moira’s heart caused her eyes to water further. 

“I’m sorry I worried you.” Moira whispered. She tightened her grip around Angela when she felt her shirt being tightly held. The pull made the shirt tight and a bit uncomfortable, but she paid it no mind. She let Angela cry against her shoulder. It was the very least she could do in turn, especially after she had deduced that Angela had kept her alive after everything went wrong.

“…I almost lost you, Liebling.” The shirt in Angela’s hand twisted further. “You experimented on yourself alone. You knew the risks and still did it alone.” She released a shuddering breath, then relaxed the hand gripping the shirt and placed her palm flat on Moira’s chest. “You should have told me you were going to attempt this today. I would have helped you. You know I would have.” Angela reached her arms around Moira’s waist. She was content sitting in Moira’s arms. Her eyes opened, but the exhaustion threatened to close them again.

The occasional sniffle was calmed by the quiet murmuring in Angela’s ear. Angela didn’t know what was being said, but was grateful to hear Moira in her native tongue. After some time, Moira paused; she closed her eyes. 

“I love you, dear one.”

Angela followed suit.

“I love you, too.”

They slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mercy is a good person, but if you can convince me that resurrecting the death isn't kinda ethically shady and thus she understands Moira being ethically shady, then I will give you a cookie. Man, the amount of hoops I had to go through with ethics boards for minor research for a university class was ridiculous. 
> 
> Raising the dead is ethically shady. Yup. Shady Science. Love it. 
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	3. Those Who Wrong Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira gives a lecture on anger.

Talon agents were closing in on her fast and she had to move even faster. She had to reach them before they arrived. Moira’s never been late in her life, and she wasn’t about to start now. Especially not for something as important as this.

_“Moira. Prepare Lab 27.”_

_“Of course. Are we expecting another guest?”_

She had suited up faster than she had thought possible. The tubes running through the suit were filled with extra nanites like the ones that usually resided in her system. They were glowing purple. There was no need for healing today, and she hoped it stayed that way. They swirled dangerously in their containment. 

_“Project Fallen Angel has begun.”_

_“Has a team been dispatched yet?”_

_“Yes. Target acquisition is expected at 2100 hours. Approximately 2 hours from now.”_

She willed the extra nanites to break down her cellular structure until she had disappeared from her lab in a swirl of smoke. She’s never had to fade so far, fast, or often. Since her body was still unable to maintain such a large amount of bots on its own, she needed the suit so that she could keep the momentum of her transport.

_“Where is the extraction point?”_

_“Next town over. Overwatch sent a sparse team to deal with a distraction we created.”_

_“Distraction?”_

_“Yes. Our more competent agents are on the other side of the world and unable to retrieve the target themselves. We'd wait for them, but unfortunately, the target doesn't currently have a heavy team alongside her, so we need to act quickly and move sooner than expected. They'll be easy to split until we can get her alone. Our agents will cause mayhem, possibly get captured. Make sure to separate the target and overwhelm with numbers.”_

_“So you’ve sent a standard unit to find her?”_

_“Correct. Idiots, but they should be more than enough. The target isn’t much of a threat.”_

_“Grand.”_

The nearest town was a busy one. It wasn’t very big, but it was certainly crowded. It would be far too easy to become separated. Especially if one was purposely herded away. She could feel the nanites buzzing angrily, though in response to their limits being stretched or merely a reflection of her own unease, she was unsure.

Her feet landed firmly on the ground before she leapt forward, leaving nothing but a small cloud of dust on the dirt road. The swirl of the air vacuum left in her wake was heard by no one.

She reached the town whose name she hadn’t bothered to remember. It wasn’t important. Traveling through the darker roads to avoid the chaos, she headed towards the increasing volume of the distraction. The distraction was a standard one: explosions, smoke, confusion, and destruction.

The yelling and firing of weapons grew muted the second she heard a particular weapon. She’d recognize that weapon’s cry anywhere.

She prepared to continue onward, but ducked into a nearby alleyway when she saw a blue light moving towards her. Staying in the shadows, she watched as a group of Talon soldiers chased after an Overwatch Agent. Tracer wasn't an easy one to forget. Tracer zipped past when the soldiers began scattering to give her multiple targets. Moira didn’t stay for long, just enough to identify Tracer's intended path.

Carefully avoiding all the people running amok, she made a beeline towards the sound of the firing pistol.

_Moira began to place her bracers on her forearm. Turning her back to the man in her lab, she flexed her hand and watched the blue veins in her arm begin to glow a sickly purple, turning the skin surrounding them a matching pale hue. Scarring began to form under her sleeves. Her nails looked sharper._

_"Tell me. Do you know the definition of anger?”_

_The officer could only stare. His brow furrowed in confusion at the topic change. He didn’t get the chance to reply as she had continued to speak without waiting for him._

_“Anger is the feeling of offense when another violates or causes offense to you or yours. An insult. An injury. The tiniest of slights can cause anger. Sometimes, anger can cause someone to react violently if they are unprepared for the emotion or have no restraint. Me? I have plenty of restraint.”_

_The officer was not prepared for Moira to suddenly appear in front of him in a cloud of smoke. An icy hand was clasped around his neck; sharp nails dug into the soft skin. He reached his hands up to grasp her wrist in an attempt to push her away, but it was in vain. Her grip did not budge._

_“See, anger is a good thing. It allows one to know where their boundaries are. People experience anger to protect themselves and that which they hold dear. Anger is important to recognize and accept. Once we know that we are experiencing anger and its causes, we can react accordingly to achieve the goal in mind to rectify the violation. Granted, many mistake it as an unreasonable emotion and lash out inappropriately. I make no such mistakes.”_

_His face was turning blue as he struggled to breathe. Her singular, red eye had begun to glow brighter. Her usual smirk was replaced with a sneer. The bracers were now glowing, and he could see bright, scarred veins begin to crawl out of her sleeve towards him. After a few seconds, he felt lines of ice travel into his neck and spread out. The ice in his veins traveled to his limbs, his strength seemingly following the trail left behind and abandoned him. He could only stare as his limbs began to grow slack. His hands began to turn to ice and seemed frozen in place. Ugly scarring grew on his skin, much to his horror. The scarring was glowing with the same intensity as her eye. The marks traveled alongside what he assumed were his veins. With his sight going black, he couldn't be quite sure. The skin of his hands and arms were shriveling up before his eyes. The ice traveling inside was a pain he had never felt before._

_The lack of air prevented him from yelling. He could only gasp._

She arrived just as Mercy had been backed into a corner. Angela was surrounded. Her Valkyrie suit was dirty and her blue eyes focused and dangerous. She could see that one of Angela’s wings had been broken, grounding her. There were bloodied tears on the suit, but no injuries to be seen. Good, Moira thought, her nanites are protecting her. While her healing staff was folded and tucked onto her back, the pistol in her hands held steady as she kept it trained onto the nearest soldier. Moira's chest swelled with pride at seeing the felled soldiers surrounding them. Angela may prefer peace, but she was still a trained agent and wouldn't go down without a fight.

She swore to herself and Angela that this was the closest that Talon would ever get to their fallen angel.

Moira raised her right arm and withdrew a cluster of nanites from the tank on her back. Once the purple cluster was as large as her head, she released it into the group of soldiers. The soldiers looked around in confusion upon noticing her biotic orb. Once close, the cluster dissipated into various streams and clung to the nearest soldiers. Her headpiece notified her that the signals to their communication have been fried. They could no longer call for backup. Either their communication signals were jammed, or they were left gasping from the ice traveling through their bodies.

Their confusion grew once she began to fade through the group until she reached her target. Fading in behind her, she quickly wrapped her arms around Angela’s waist, "I apologize for my tardiness, dear one."

From the whispering in her ear, Angela braced herself against the incoming change. She reached down to grab onto the arms around her waist before Moira could fade. Their time spent apart hadn’t slowed her body’s gleeful immediate reaction to Moira.

In seconds, Angela felt a chill travel down her in reaction to the nanites in her body. It wasn’t often that she faded, only ever at Moira's guidance. Her nanites weren’t used to breaking down her cellular structure into Moira’s preferred form of travel. Their nanites were built from the same base, but they didn't share enough similarities to share Moira's ability to fade. But with Moira’s own starting the process in her body, they could pair with each other until they were able to temporarily fade together without causing Angela any harm. They built the bots together, and she trusted Moira to safely guide them.

The shiver down her spine was her only warning. The world rushed past her for far longer than she'd ever experienced, and certainly more than she’d ever seen Moira travel before. Brief concern leaked in the back of her mind until the world stopped moving. Once they had landed on firm ground inside a nearby building, Angela spun around and threw her arms around Moira’s neck, carefully avoiding the spikes of the suit. Moira buried her face into the crook of her neck with her own arms clasped around Angela’s back. They took in each other’s presence for a moment before separating.

Her eyes roamed Angela's body, making sure there were no further injuries.

“Did they hurt you?” Moira asked.

“Nothing that hasn’t already healed, Liebling.”

Convinced that Angela was fine for now, she moved her hands to cup Angela's cheek, then tilted Angela’s head up towards her. She bent down to place a desperate kiss against her lips. However, neither had much time to enjoy it before they pulled apart.

“Tracer dashed off towards the north end of the village. She was being chased but looked like she was following a path. Your other friends will likely rendezvous there so they can group together to find you. I will take care of the Talon agents we left behind. I will then keep watch and find you afterward.”

Angela nodded and stood still when she started feeling a brief chill against her cheeks. Moira watched in satisfaction as Angela’s blue eyes started glowing until they were a bright lavender.

“Go. My nanites will bond with yours so that you can remain undetected until you find your friends. They will reveal you when they detect that your friends are nearby without announcing my presence.”

With that, Moira disappeared. Angela faced north and willed her nanites to cooperate with the visiting ones. She dashed north moving faster than she had before, leaving behind wisps of protective smoke.

_“Personally, I am rather angry. And in turn, I am reacting accordingly for my goal of protecting what is mine.”_

_A husk of what used to be a Talon officer dropped lifelessly to the floor of her lab with a dull thud. Faint blue lines receded from his face and exited his body. The nanites clustered together and traveled through the air until they disappeared into the opening of her bracer. She turned away and reached for the rest of her battle suit._

_She had an offense to rectify._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do I use my psychology degree for? Fanfic. My parents would be so proud.
> 
> Bruh, these one-shots are just getting longer and longer.
> 
> Guess who's making shit up about science for plot convenience! This bitch right here.
> 
> Some mischief and overall ridiculousness with the Shady Science Duo is also coming soon. 
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	4. They're All Over Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rabbits are nice. Interns are useful. Together they cause mayhem.

A crash made Angela look up from her clipboard. Turning towards the sound, she scanned her lab to find the source. It couldn’t be any of her interns. She had already shooed them from the lab for lunch, leaving her alone. 

Seeing one of the end tables by her desk knocked over, she made her way over. There was no immediate culprit until she bent over to look under her desk. Her brows furrowed. There was a small, grey rabbit sitting there without a care. She noticed a green tag attached to one of its ears. It was a lab rabbit, and not one of hers. Her lab animals had grey tags. The text wasn’t visible on this one, but she knew the tag colors of every lab animal on base, and this one, was one of Moira’s. Which one, she couldn’t quite tell, but was curious as to how it found its way to her lab.

She set the clipboard on the desk and moved the chair. Reaching down, she picked up the rabbit and cradled it to her chest. She adjusted the tag on its ear until she could read off the tag.

“What brings you here, 13C? Aren’t you supposed to be in testing?” She rubbed the rabbit’s back and made her way to Moira’s lab to return it. 

Reaching the door to Moira’s lab, she paused at the sound of clattering coming from inside. If she wasn’t mistaken, there was also some minor swearing mixed in. Her confusion only grew further. Adjusting the rabbit, she reached out to open the door. As soon as she stepped inside, there was a swirl of smoke and the door was slammed shut behind her. 

She hardly had time to blink when the rabbit was removed from her arms without warning. She watched as a frazzled Moira injected a small needle filled with a milky liquid from a jet injector into the squirming rabbit’s hind quarters. The rabbit wiggled for a moment before it became drowsy. Moira raised her right arm and a tiny cloud of nanites rose from the rabbit. The cloud circled around Moira’s hand before disappearing. The only indication that Moira had absorbed them, was the slight discoloration of her hand and a slight glow to her red eye. Moira reached into her pocket and pulled a small bottle of temporary, bright green dye. She applied a couple of drops onto the rabbit’s back. She walked over to a series of half-filled cages and deposited the rabbit inside a cage marked ‘13C’. The rabbit had fallen asleep before the door had closed.

Angela looked around while Moira inspected the cages. It looked like a hurricane had made its home in the lab. A hurricane of rabbits with green tags on their ears. Rabbits with eerie eyes that kept traveling across the room surrounded by an odd cloud of what seemed like heavy black smoke, knocking over anything on their path. She locked the door behind her to prevent their escape.

This was different than Moira’s fade. She could see them moving, but they moved at their standard speed. They didn’t appear to have the increased speed or invisibility of fading. The partial intangibility was also present. She had seen a pen get knocked off the table by a tangible rabbit, which then fell straight through a different ghostly rabbit on the floor as if it wasn’t there. However, the rabbit on the floor bumped into the table leg and had to go around. She had yet to understand why a pen could go through it, but not a table leg.

“Liebling?”

“Yes?”

“Can you explain why you have multiple rabbits roaming your office like something out of a ghost story?”

Moira looked away from the cages and around her current disaster of a lab. She sighed and ran her long fingers through her hair. She opened her mouth to reply but stopped when she saw a rabbit had become tangible. She quickly reached out towards it to inject it with the needle, but was too slow as it turned to smoke again, causing the needle to go right through it. She grimaced when she watched it hop away. 

Standing straight, she turned towards Angela. “The interns made a time consuming mistake.” Angela watched as Moira scanned the rabbits around the room. “They injected the rabbits with the wrong nanobots. They used my supply of them, meaning that the blasted things can fade around the room,” Angela held back a giggle when Moira attempted to chase after a newly tangible white rabbit only for it to turn to smoke right as the needle approached. The rabbit dashed off and exited the wraith state after climbing onto the desk, sending a stapler clattering to the ground, startling the other rabbits. “But since those bots were meant for human DNA, they can’t quite fade like I can, but unfortunately, I can’t grab them in their blasted wraith state in order to sedate them so I can’t remove the nanites. And until I catch them, I can’t even record the results.”

“How many still need to be sedated and marked?”

Moira might as well have pounced on the brown rabbit next to her. “Not counting this one, six. Fourteen are already accounted for.” Moira glared at the squirming rabbit in her arms as the needle did its job. She removed the nanites, marked the rabbit, and deposited it in its cage. 

She walked over to Angela and held out the injector. Angela took it in her hand and checked to see how much of the sedative was left. 

“I’ll catch them. You sedate them and mark them. Single dose.” Angela nodded at the instruction. 

For the next 2 hours, Angela followed behind Moira’s crouched form. Whenever Moira began to fade towards a rabbit, she readied the injector and quickly sedated the unruly rabbits once they were in Moira’s arms. They removed the nanites, marked the rabbit, and placed it in its cage. 

They were down to one rabbit. A single, white, conniving rabbit. It was currently hiding behind a chair. Moira was crouched behind it while Angela was crouched in front. The rabbit was leaking smoke and not quite tangible yet. Once the rabbit stopped smoking and its fur turned into its bright white, Moira shot out towards it. Their attempt failed when the rabbit bolted, knocking the chair over and dropping it in Moira’s way. Angela paid no attention at the irritated, Gaelic muttering behind her as she pivoted around to keep track of the rabbit. It had yet to enter the wraith form.

Creeping up behind it, she readied the injector when she heard the vacuum of air displacing next to her. A pair of hands suddenly appeared out of a swirl of smoke and held the rabbit in place. The injector made contact with its hindquarters just as it started leaking smoke. Unfortunately for test subject 13F, the sedative had already been administered. It squirmed until it escaped Moira’s hands. However, they no longer had to catch it. They watched as 13F tried to hop away; it began to slow. Its movements became sluggish as the smoke disappeared. Moira made her way towards it and carefully scooped it up in her arms to remove the nanites. With 13F marked and returned to its cage, they were finally able to take a deep breath.

Angela set down the dye and injector on a table and looked around the room. She couldn’t help but groan at the destruction. Papers were scattered, office supplies were strewn about, glass was broken, and ink paw prints littered the floor. She went to unlock the door so she could find the interns so they could help clean up the mess. Before she could reach the door, she heard Moira calling her.

“Dear one.”

Angela turned around and saw Moira staring at her from her spot on the couch. She was laying across it, with her long legs hanging over the armrest. The provided couch had always been too short. At least it was comfortable. She walked over when she saw Moira’s arm raise and offer her palm. Angela took the hand and yelped when Moira pulled her down on top of her.

“We’ll take a break and maybe a nap, then lecture the interns later.”

Angela adjusted herself so she wasn’t sprawled out. She tucked her face under Moira’s chin and nudged the column of her throat with her nose. Their legs were tangled as Angela folded her arms against Moira while Moira’s own wrapped loosely around her waist. Angela closed her eyes.

“I hate rabbits.”

Angela barked a laugh into Moira’s shoulder. Moira grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I pretend that there's a rabbit army with reaper's powers running amok.
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	5. The True Struggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don't like being separated at fancy events very much.

Someone had made a breakthrough in science. Moira recognized the work but didn’t care much for the pomp of the event, or the work itself for that matter. She had other things that she could be doing in her own lab instead of being at a party.

Everything was shiny and bright. The people were in the very best formal wear to celebrate the advancement, but most of the scientists and doctors in the room weren’t from Overwatch. The largest section of the guest list was comprised of politicians and social elite. She didn’t care for either section of the guest list. Morrison and Reyes were somewhere else in the room, busy keeping up appearances. Overwatch could never have enough funding after all.

The only person that she would enjoy talking to was somewhere across the room, mingling with the crowd. Despite her own height, she couldn’t spot Angela’s blue dress or her pinned hair in the crowd anywhere. Thus, she was left to play nice with everyone at the event. Even though over half of them only cared about who was able to sink more money into the funding. They didn’t actually care about the work itself.

She was reaching for a new glass of champagne from the server when a particular conversation reached her ear.

“It’s morally wrong, is what it is.”

“Resurrecting the dead? Who is Zeigler to play god?”

“The dead need to stay dead.”

She despised them immediately. The sight of Angela’s distraught face at losing someone came too easily to her mind.

Once she got a good look of the chatting group, she grasped two glasses from the tray and made her way over the group. A member of the social elite, a professor, and a mildly drunken politician. Grand. Adjusting her face into the most approachable smile she could muster, she walked over. Easing into the group, she held out the empty glass to the one holding no drink. Her stature and calm gaze made the air stifling.

“I do agree that resurrection can be ethically dubious, but who are we to judge? We do what we must for science to advance. Her work is absolutely brilliant.” Her tone filled the group with unease. It wasn’t a lie. She highly respected Angela’s work and preened when she heard someone compliment Angela on doing the impossible. Not to mention, making Angela into an ethical scapegoat would also make her a hypocrite. She herself had partaken in rather suspect methodologies. Neither was free of blame.

The politician's drink sloshed when he raised his chin at her, “We are not the ones reviving the dead. We can freely state our minds on the matter.” The woman next to him nodded in agreement.

“Oh?” Moira’s lips curled up into a smirk, “So it is perfectly alright for those who have no knowledge of the process to judge so long as they have an opinion?” The Politician began to open his mouth, but she interrupted before he could speak. “Or is it only morally acceptable as long as you and you alone reap the rewards? Wasn’t your son a soldier saved by Dr. Zeigler’s hand? Or should she have left him dead?” Angela’s rage at almost losing the soldier due to incompetence echoed in her thoughts.  
  
“Of course not. His son was a decorated general.” The Socialite crowed.

“Of course. My mistake. I didn’t realize that merit gave you advantages above others with a lower status,” Moira’s eyes hardened as she took a drink.

“Who are you to criticize?” The Professor nearly flinched when Moira turned her gaze towards her.

“A like mind who understands what needs to be done,” her voice dropped low, “And someone who is warning you to watch your drinking habits.” The Politician lowered his drink. “You may end up on her table next, and she may not be as merciful.” Moira turned around to leave the group. Swapping her empty drink for a new one with the nearest server, she spoke up right as the server walked away. “Your merits aren’t as decorated as your son’s.”

\---

Across the room, Angela was scowling at the discussion before her. She had just congratulated her colleague on his breakthrough when she had stumbled on two fellow peers who were discussing the shortfalls of Moira’s work. She’d rather be back in her lab doing a full inventory check.

“What do you think, Dr. Zeigler?”

“I don’t agree with her methods, but the result can be used to benefit us all,” the memory of Moira shaking from testing the side effects of her nanites was not a welcome one. “We can study it further and help develop treatments that prevent the spread of disease at a cellular level. A more effective vaccine if you will. The possibilities are endless,” she may not like Moira experimenting on herself, but human test subjects were very hard to come by without the Board stopping the research entirely. She had done the same with altered nanites and her own body. She wasn’t about to condemn Moira for doing the same when faced with an identical obstacle.

“I highly doubt the merits of her work. No one here could reproduce it. Not like Dr. Abeny's research. There’s a reason why he received an award tonight.” Angela’s scowl deepened.

“Did you place yourself in a life threatening situation during the testing?”

Her peers paused, “Well, no. But we-.”

“Then you can’t say the research cannot be replicated. One needs to take risks or science will stagnate,” she continued. She’s still unsure if the grin on Moira’s face when she faded for the first time was worth the risk. She finished her drink and set the empty flute on the table next to her. “If you would excuse me, I need to find a colleague of mine.”

She turned away from the pair to scan the room for her target. Seeing orange bobbing above the crowd, she let her feet carry her forward. Reaching the other side, she paused in front of a large window and waited while she looked out into the sky.

She may not always approve of Moira’s methods, but she wasn’t about to stop them. No one outside of the lab was getting hurt and Moira wasn’t out to cause harm. If things escalated, she might reconsider her passivity, but as of now? Moira was doing good work (despite nearly giving her a heart attack every time she finds Moira exhausted and nearly unconscious after a self-examination) and Angela was going to help her. Not all science was able to be studied in neat little lab experiments after all.

A glass of some amber liquid was held in front of her. Taking the offered glass, she brought it to her lips. The burn of the whiskey was welcome. She turned to face her sudden companion. Moira looked dashing with her hair slicked back as usual, but instead of her lab coat, she was dressed in a sharp suit. The black suit contrasted with the deep blue of the vest and tie. The blue fabric gave her eyes a mesmerizing shine.

She forgot to question where the whiskey came from.

“I don’t like them slandering your name, Moira.”

“Likewise, Dear One. We’ve been here long enough. More than enough for us to make our exit.”

Angela pondered the statement. Moira was right. They’ve been at the event for a few hours now. They had already clapped and congratulated. Jack and Gabriel were already here, so they could technically leave if they wanted. After a beat, she came to a decision.

“I’ll finish my drink and join you outside, Liebling.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because my sister brought it up, here's a fun fact about Angela and Moira's petnames for each other: 
> 
> "Liebling" and "Dear One" are actual "Petnames" that this german chick and I used to call each other. Best part? I hated her guts. I was reading aloud from some german translation of some book she had left on her coffee table. German chick was my good friend's roommate at the time and I was waiting for my friend. Anyway, German Chick mutters how she hates "Liebling" because she found it too sickly sweet. And because I hated her, I started calling her "Liebling" because every time I said it, she got super annoyed. In turn, she started calling me "Dear One" because it was the first thing that popped into her head, and I hated whenever she acknowledged my presence in any way, shape, or form. The petname made me want to punt her out a window. My friend walked in to the angriest tension and it was fantastic. But the best, best part? My gay ass also really wanted to kiss her stupid german face. So there was spiteful, sexual tension and I never acted on it because my friend hated her guts, and because I am the ultimate ride or die friend, I hated her guts too until told otherwise. And because she wasn't an idiot, she knew I was being super passive aggressive on my friend's behalf because one friend told me to be civil. And that was as civil as I was going to get otherwise I would have fought her. The pet names only lasted a couple of days until we found new ways to irritate each other. 
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	6. A Touch of the Dramatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heroes never die. Heroes do, however, sometimes fall.

Moira watched Angela turn the medal over in her hand. The silver gleamed under the lighting of her office. The Valkyrie Quick Response Suit sat pristine on its stand in the corner. The suit was cleaned for the presentation until it was gleaming so brightly that it was almost blinding. The Caduceus Staff stood dutifully next to it.

The battle itself was brutal. The omnics had made an aggressive push against a larger city, destroying property and endangering civilians. Overwatch had caught wind of the attack and were able to deploy to counter them, but there were so many. Angela had said that the suit still needed a final round of testing to be sure it was safe in such a battle, but there was no time. Despite the testing process being incomplete, Angela was able to use it to the best of her ability. 

Moira had studied Angela’s vitals during the fight. The suit transmitted to her monitor back over at base. It was important that Angela had an extra pair of eyes watching her back, making sure nothing happened to the suit and its wearer. She never saw the suit falter.

It was incredible to see Angela in her element. There was nothing that anyone could do to stop her. She adopted the namesake of her suit all too easily.

The destruction wasn’t preventable, but with Angela deployed, the lives at stake were safe. The body count was at an all-time low for soldier and civilian alike. Utilizing the suit like an extension of herself, Angela had kept the defense strong. Not only were they able to destroy the omnics, they were able to safely evacuate the city in time for the battle. 

By being pivotal to the fight, The UN had decided to award her with a Medal of Valor for her heroic efforts. And in a moment, Mercy had become a beacon of hope far beyond what either of them thought possible. Mercy was no longer just the alias of an ally, but the name of a Hero. 

“I’m not quite sure how I feel about being lauded as a hero, Moira.”

Moira pushed off from her spot against the wall. She placed her hands on Angela’s shoulders once she was standing behind her. It wasn’t the first time Angela had been filled with doubt, and it wouldn’t be the last. Regardless, she’d always stand next to her.

“You have always been a hero to them. Only now, it’s official.” 

“I don’t do it for the praise.” 

Moira removed her hands and went to lean against Angela’s desk. She crossed her arms and grinned at Angela, “Of course not, Angela. To my dismay, your desires are always altruistic.”

Angela set the medal down onto the table behind her. She leaned on the table behind her to mirror Moira’s stance with a smirk of her own.

“Always? Even when those desires were about you?” She watched Moira’s grin turned wide. “My actions are always selfless.” Moira’s rumbling chuckle sent shivers down her spine. 

Moira rolled up the sleeves of her shirt until they settled at the crook of her elbow before moving away from the desk. Her eyes sparkled when Angela’s hand reached out to wrap her fingers around her tie.

She closed her eyes, placed a hand on her chest, and tilted her head upwards, “I wouldn’t dare to call you anything but. In fact, you are so amazingly heroic and caring,” Angela scoffed, “that it just makes me want to swoon.” Unfortunately, she decided to lean into Angela just as she noticed a tug at her neck. If there was one thing she almost regretted in this moment, it was how easily her body followed Angela’s hand without any resistance. The tug coupled with her lean, had sent her careening into Angela’s side. 

Her eyes shot open when she lost her balance. She locked eyes with Angela’s equally wide ones. Both were too startled by the unexpected tumble that they fell to the floor. 

But as of this moment, she couldn’t regret anything. She had landed on top of Angela. Her left forearm was pressed onto the cool floor above Angela’s head, while her other hand had landed flat next to Angela’s side. The hand had gone pale when it strengthened to prepare for the fall. While accidental, Moira was grateful that she hadn’t dropped her full weight onto Angela. Yes, she knew that Angela was stronger than she looked, but still.

Her grin returned when she looked down at their proximity. Not to mention the hand that was still gripping her tie.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been awarded that medal,” she squirmed when she felt Angela pinch at her waist. “What hero can’t catch a damsel in distress? In fact,” She paid no mind to Angela’s narrowed eyes, nor to the tie that slipped from Angela’s hand when she stood up. She crouched and offered her right hand. Her grip was firm after Angela’s palm had touched hers. “Why don’t I show you how it’s done?”

Angela yelped when the veins in Moira’s hand began to glow until she was pulled upwards. It happened too quickly for her to keep track since that damn, enhanced hand always moved a bit faster than she could follow. No longer disoriented, she found herself up in the air and settled in Moira’s arms. A cool arm was under her knees; the other held tight around her back. Angela’s right arm rested on Moira’s chest while the left was pressed between her own body and Moira’s. Looking up at her captor, she found herself nose to nose with her favorite person. 

Moira’s eyes held a gentleness that only she had ever seen. Those eyes were always so focused and sharp, but in these rare moments, Angela was more than content to be under their playful scrutiny. She slowly removed her pinned arm to raise it against Moira’s cheek, thumb tracing the line of her cheekbones. 

“See? Now this is how you hold a lovely damsel. Perhaps they should have given me that medal,” the all too familiar teasing filled Angela with a sudden joy. Laughter bubbled in her chest until she could no longer hold it in. Her eyes had closed once her laughter had escaped into the air of her office. She couldn’t help but laugh harder when she felt herself being pressed closer to Moira’s chest.

Moira swore she had never seen a sight a wonderful as the woman without a care in her arms, or the delight of her laughter. She leaned back against the desk to make sure her balance wouldn’t falter again.

After some time, Angela’s laughter has lessened to a giggle. Moira turned her head into the hand still resting on her face until she could place a soft kiss on the palm. When she felt Angela move her hands until they were clasped together at the back of her neck, she adjusted her hold so as to not drop her.

After a moment of Angela’s fingers playing with the soft hairs at her nape, she pressed their foreheads together. 

“Heroes are admired, dear one. And I choose to admire no hero except for the one currently in front of me.” 

“Thank you, Liebling.” 

The doubt in those beautiful blue eyes had all but vanished, and Moira couldn’t be happier.

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the post that cemented my love for the supportive science duo:
> 
> https://sodavic.tumblr.com/post/167674822597/this-ship-has-become-my-fuel
> 
> We've got a bit of a longer one up next. 
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	7. Chooser of the Slain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela has taken many oaths in her life. Some more important than others.

_“How many times must we go through this, Winston?” Angela sighed. Her fingers dug into her side, hidden under her crossed arms. She sat at the long table in the briefing room. Despite being on the opposite side, his large form still towered over her. He stared expectantly, wanting answers she wasn’t capable of giving._

_“Angela, we need information on her whereabouts.”_

_She knew this. She’s known this ever since Moira had been removed from Overwatch. Ever since Overwatch’s downfall and recall._

_“I don’t know where she is.” That was a lie if she had ever told one. Granted, she may not know her exact location, but she generally knew how to find Moira. When apart for long, being able to find each other had become almost instinctual. The actual trackers were still a work in progress though._

_Winston slumped in place. His large shoulders folding inwards did nothing to make himself smaller. Fixing his glasses, he looked at the folder sitting on the table._

_“Please,” she watched as he flipped the folder open. The sound of the turning pages made her blood pound. “She’s too well hidden. We don’t know her current location,” Oasis, Angela’s thoughts interrupted, “nor do we know who she works for," Oasis. Talon, “and we also don’t know her affiliations.” Herself. Science. Me._

_Years ago, they had decided that they would protect each other. It was an oath that they took very seriously. She had a choice to make: give up Moira or uphold their oath. Some choices were easier than others._

_“And Overwatch will continue to know nothing.” Winston stared her down. His eyes were kind and understanding, but changed nothing. She stood, closing her own copy of Moira’s dossier. Tucking it under her arm, her gaze hardened. “I cannot give you information that I myself don’t know.”_

_Winston wrapped his knuckles on the table. He wasn’t sure what to make of Angela’s retreating back._

“Remember. We need to capture as many Talon agents alive as we can. There won’t be many, but there should be enough. If you spot a priority target, focus on them. We need the priority targets more than we need low-rank information. Be alert. The chances of running into at least one on this mission are unusually high. They are not to be taken lightly.”

Angela clenched her hand when Soldier 76 pulled up profiles on his holopad. The projector pulled up multiple headshots of high ranking Talon agents: Doomfist, Widowmaker, Reaper, among others.

However, there was only profile on the list that she cared about. Moira. The floating image was old, back from her Overwatch days. Even so, Angela could confirm that nothing had changed in the many years since. Same red hair. Same heterochromatic eyes. Same smug smirk.

Angela knew that Moira would eventually be targeted. The day where she was unable to keep Moira out of Overwatch’s grasp would also grow closer. However, Overwatch will not capture her on this day, the next, or the one after.

_Sitting at her desk, Angela paused when she reached for the mug. The quiet footsteps behind her told her that this was not a social visit. Everyone always seemed to forget that she was highly aware of her surroundings, in no small part due to her own experiments having enhanced her senses, as well as her many years of navigating battlefields. Once she recognized the footsteps, she held back the forming scowl._

_“Did Winston send you?”_

_Ana stood at the door to her office. Her tattered cloak fluttered behind her. Angela refused to look at her._

_“No one sends me anywhere. Not anymore.”_

_“And yet you’re in my office.” Angela reached for the mug. “As I told Winston, I don’t know anything.”_

_“The way I knew nothing about Reaper and Soldier 76?”_

_Angela took a long drink from her mug. Unfortunately, her flask was forgotten at home. Her coffee didn’t have the bite that she wanted, but the warmth was enough. Once the coffee settled in her stomach, she collected her notes and stood._

_Ana did nothing when Angela started walking towards the exit, looking straight ahead, but not at her._

_“You can’t protect her forever.”_

_Angela didn’t stop or slow._

_“I’m afraid that I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_Ana pursed her lips once Angela had moved past her._

They had landed and were on their way. There were two small units left, a mix of old and new members. They couldn’t risk leaving the newer recruits to themselves, especially not since Overwatch was still technically illegal. And honestly, it made her job easier.

A new agent who was tasked to watch her back on the field was standing behind her. They had taken cover out of sight and were waiting for the rest of the unit to finish searching the immediate area before moving forward. He wasn’t paying very much attention to her, too focused on waiting for any signal from their teammates or any immediate danger to his charge.

His focus prevented him from noticing that the Caduceus Staff was releasing a small cloud of nanites. The bots were small enough that they were invisible to the naked eye. They had no current purpose, and thus, didn’t glow. They never did when they were on standby.

The bots held a slight white glow for a brief moment once they activated. Using the controls set in the halo, she split the cloud in two. The smaller group pulsed white when they tried to move away from her. Seeing their intended direction, she sent the larger group somewhere in the opposite direction, but not too far off. She needed the larger group to follow her from a safe distance.

Starting the special tracker in the smaller group, she let them follow their desired path. Once gone, she felt the nanites in her body urging her to follow.

She now had a destination and a new agent who was none the wiser.

_“Did Overwatch's shutdown also shut down everyone’s manners? Civilized people knock. Like they have for decades. And you’re not nearly old enough to forget something as simple as manners.” Angela didn’t look up from her nanites’ calculations and programming. They could use some tweaks, but those needed tweaks were ones that she had memorized long ago. The notes that held the intended changes had been destroyed immediately after in order to protect their original owner._

_Soldier 76 stood at the doorway to her lab. He wasn’t trying to be discreet, but he also wasn’t expecting such a cold welcome. He continued with his task._

_“We need you, Dr. Zeigler. And anything you may know about the target before our agents close in on the ambush.”_

_Her mouth turned bitter at his gruff voice, “If you recall, Soldier,” the name was almost drawled out, “I don’t know you and I don’t owe you anything,” not after his lies, “Especially information that I don’t have.” Keeping secrets was an Overwatch specialty, one that everyone on base was guilty of perpetuating. Soldier will keep his secrets and she would keep hers in turn._

_Angela continued to ignore his gaze. She knew he was staring at her from behind that mask. It’d be pointless to face him head on when she was this busy. It was a battle that never ended well for them._

_She scanned the calculations (keeping mental tabs of all needed adjustments) as she flipped through her holopad. Things had somewhat changed since the original numbers were created, but it wasn’t a change that caused any problem. Unfortunately, she couldn’t continue working on the nanites until Soldier left._

_Science waits for no one, not even when interrupted by an unwanted guest. Angela, however, had to be patient._

_Otherwise, the notes would give away her intentions for the impending mission. He may have gotten older, but he wasn’t stupid. He may not know what the numbers meant exactly, but he’d know enough to send the information for Winston to decipher._

_“It is imperative that we have all the information before we set out.”_

_“Then you best start your preparations as I have nothing else to say.” The sliding door was almost grating on her ears. She waited for his footsteps to echo down the hall until they could no longer be heard. The tension in her shoulders didn’t ease. She had work to do._

The bot cloud had sped up once their target was near. Her suit registered the cloud’s transmissions. They had not only alerted to a successful signal response with the target, but they were sending out a homing beacon. Her nanites were almost vibrating with excitement at being so close, but then again, it might just be her.

Angela and her unit had crossed through most of the rubble of what used to be a city neighborhood to get to their current location. The only thing the location usually held were the occasional drifters and criminals. But right now, it was hiding a specific Talon Operative, and they were closing in. All other Talon agents had been captured or, much to her distaste, eliminated.

Unfortunately, her teammates had a bit of bad luck. The targets were riddled with aggressive, purple nanites. The targets were captured, but her teammates were drained. They were recovering, but her healing stream could only fight off the parasitic nanites so fast. She had removed the nanites with her staff, but the effects lingered.

Her teammates were concerned, but she assured them that her nanites would destroy the intruding ones inside the staff’s nanite regulator. No one needed to know that the intruding nanites had stopped their attack once they had recognized her own bots’ signature. When one of their trackers started alerting to Moira’s presence, she convinced her team to lay low and catch up once sufficiently recovered. She didn’t buy herself much time, but it should be enough.

The agent from before was with her again. Being the only two who hadn’t been slowed by Moira’s bots, the unit leader told them to identify her location without making contact.

The agent held up the tracking device. The beeping on it had stopped. The screen only held a solid red circle and coordinates. The tracker was unique in the way that it tracked a nanite’s signature, one of her own designs technically. The tracker resided in her halo and was meant to help her identify and find the fallen soldiers who had agreed to a resurrection. They would hold a miniscule amount of bots that would then serve as a beacon.

To her distaste, her technology was once again repurposed without her approval. It was quickly turned into a prototype tracker by Winston himself. Not only did he reverse engineer it, but he adjusted the tracker to find nanites that held a certain DNA signature. Her bots were uniquely bonded to her, Moira’s to herself, and so on, making their many signatures trackable. And the tracker had pinpointed Moira’s location to the building in front of them.

She could feel the muscles in her jaw tense as the agent stepped past the broken door.

_“You don’t have to fight them so much, y’know.”_

_Angela paid no mind to Lena’s gentle admonishment, or the clenching in her own jaw._

_The calculation changes were successful, and she could easily implement them into her nanites’ programming. She was short on time, but considering the circumstances, this was simply a hiccup in her goal._

_Angela’s eyes narrowed at the wires connecting to the inner mechanisms of her staff, “I will continue to fight them if they continue to ask me for what I cannot give.”_

_“Can’t? Or won’t?”_

_She turned around with a scoff. She needed something from her desk, but Lena was sitting on it, and more than a bit in her way. She took a deep breath, shooed her off, and searched through the papers on a clipboard now available to her._

_“The question is irrelevant. I can’t give what I don’t have. The sooner everyone understands, the sooner we can be finished with our preparations. We have targets to acquire and supplies to prepare.”_

_Lena shuffled her feet as she stood by the desk, “Just remember that we’re the good guys, yea?”_

_“I’ve often wondered if we’re as good as you believe us to be.”_

The tracker had locked onto the location. There was only one door left to check, and the building had collapsed all exits. Moira was cornered.

The agent dropped the tracker into one of his many cargo pockets and drew his gun. His eagerness to capture the target and prove his worth was her opportunity.

A stream of bots exited from her staff. Invisible to the naked and distracted eye, they crept closer to the agent until he was unknowingly surrounded. She waited.

As soon as he opened the door, he was consumed by a cloud of purple. He didn’t even have the chance to panic before he collapsed onto the floor. Her sedative was rather fast acting. Once his breathing slowed, the cloud rose, turned yellow, and drifted to a corner of the room. She followed her bots until they reached a form sitting against the far wall, the form of her beloved partner.

Moira looked exhausted. The container of bots no longer rested on her back, but sat empty next to her. The withering smoke trails floated away from her body until they faded from sight. Her trembling, right arm was mangled and knotted with scars. Her arm had lost all color and hung limp at her side. The pallor on her arm had traveled up towards her face until even her eyes had gone dull. Moira’s ragged breathing caused her scarred arm to twitch and shake further.

Moira was exhausted, but alive and in no condition to escape. Her integrated bots would keep her alive, but she’d be captured long before she fully recovered. Her bots could only do so much at once.

“My angel of mercy.”

Angela’s lips twitched, “I see that you’re feeling better already, Liebling.”

Moira chuckled, “How can I not? When not only has my dear one finished the decoy and tracking bots in record time, applied them successfully, and is now standing before me as beautiful as ever. She is so very brilliant.”

Angela removed the staff from her back and clicked it on. After some tinkering in the lab, she had temporarily extended the storage capacity of the staff, allowing enough room to store Moira’s bots. Moira had lost quite a bit of nanites trying to escape the Overwatch agents, but Angela had planned for it.

Moira sighed in relief once her missing nanites traveled through her body. Her arm hadn’t recovered its color, but it had stopped shaking. Progress was progress. The nanites had been charged by the staff and were more than ready to repair their preferred host. Once the bots had been absorbed by Moira, she powered down the staff and set it aside.

Now that Moira wasn’t shaking, Angela helped her to her feet. Moira was still a bit unbalanced, but nothing that another minute or so won’t fix. She drew her into a tight hug. Her grip tightened when she felt a chin rest on top of her head. Once Moira was steady, she let go.

“My bots led the second squad away. They’re currently looping to various coordinates to throw my unit off your scent. Once the trackers have lost the trail, the bots will return to me. I gave you enough of my own bots to confuse my team’s trackers into thinking it’s a location where we previously encountered opposition and nothing of note. The nanites will guide you on the path,” Angela pulled Moira down so that she could place a quick, parting kiss on Moira’s lips, “I’ll meet you at the usual rendezvous.”

Moira nodded. Picking up the empty tank, she adjusted it onto her back and watched her extra nanites fill the container. She could feel her bots travel through the tubes until they had recharged and continued to heal her. The cycle of their entrances and exits were welcome.

Angela watched Moira fade away. Once she no longer felt the presence of her and Moira’s bots, she lifted the staff and turned back to the doorway. She had a sleeping agent to wake up.

_“Lena?”_

_“Yea, doc?”_

_“Tell me, has anyone ever told you the definition of anger?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's how tracer died. :D Not really, but that amuses me more than it should. This chapter is also known as "How far can I push the line of moral ambiguity with mercy without completely compromising her convictions: Take One, Action." Also here, have a deleted scene that my sister and I couldn't stop giggling about. :)
> 
> -
> 
> Angela stared at the picture in front of her. It was a picture of Moira and herself from back before Overwatch’s fall. Moira was lifting Angela off the ground by her waist in a tight hug. They looked rather happy. Ana and Winston? Not so happy.
> 
> “I don’t know her,” she said.
> 
> “You worked together very closely. Very. Closely,” Winston tried to keep his calm. 
> 
> “She doesn’t look familiar,” Angela replied.
> 
> “You were romantically involved for years. You’re still involved now! I saw you two. You’re not sneaky,” Ana’s accusation fell on deaf ears.
> 
> “No idea what you’re talking about.” Angela continued to stare blankly at the picture.
> 
> “That’s you in the picture next to her!” Winston was getting annoyed.
> 
> “Still not ringing a bell. I don’t recognize either of those two women.”
> 
> Angela shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. 
> 
> “This is obviously you and her in this picture.” Ana sighed, so very deeply.
> 
> “Never seen them before in my life. But if I did meet them, I’d tell them that they make a very attractive couple.”
> 
> Ana and Winston groaned in exasperation.
> 
> -
> 
> My sibling wants me to introduce you to the shady science duo's interns. We like throwing them under the bus for plot convenience when we laugh at moicy scenarios.
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	8. What Time We Had

No one that has known them quite knew what to make of them. Angela Zeigler, a kind-hearted prodigy. Moira O'Deorain, a stern genius. Both were brilliant in their respective fields, and while they occasionally bickered, neither ever spoke ill of each other. Frustration every now and again, but never malice. Bets had been muttered and heads had turned, but very few ever saw their true relationship. Glimpses were the most they had ever seen.

\---

Winston remembers a moment that others noted as common.

Winston remembered his first time meeting them. He was new to the base and was given a brief tour of the science facilities.

During the tour, his guide had stopped for a moment to speak with an intern with an ID marked 'Lab 13'. Winston didn't mind the interruption. Overwatch was a busy place and he was very familiar with unexpected situations. He tilted his head when his guide had sighed. The intern handed his guide a holopad then ducked out of the hall.

"It seems that we might need to defuse a situation. I guess now is as good a time as any to meet them," his guide had said.

"Oh?" Winston perked up at the mention of meeting his new colleagues, but he didn't know if that sigh was a good or bad sign. He'd believe it was a good one. New friends were always a good sign after all.

They made their way down the spacious halls. It was nice being able to fit through them without needing to squeeze in anywhere. After greeting the occasional passerby, they had arrived at Lab 13. His curiosity was piqued when the door opened and a frazzled intern nearly crashed into his side. The intern mumbled an apology and kept moving. Even after the door had closed, he could hear muffled voices coming from inside.

He shifted his weight when he realized that the voices weren't exactly happy. The weren’t loud, but they sounded too harsh to be friendly. Before Winston could reach out to his guide to postpone the meeting, his guide had already knocked. Winston cringed. He may have been raised on the moon, but even he knew when to leave private matters alone.

The voices quieted. Winston leaned away from the door just a bit. Just in case.

The door opened and a woman in a lab coat blocked the entrance to the lab. She was quite tall with bright red hair. Even at his stature, she looked him in the eye with little problem.

"Dr. O'Deorain. I ran into an intern who mentioned a squabble. I’m taking the liberty of using this time to remind you both to keep your bickering out of the lab and to introduce you to a new member of the science division." Winston startled at how bold his guide was. Last time he was almost caught in a feud, he had left the moon colony entirely. Granted, it wasn’t quite the same situation, but maybe it wasn't too late to go back to his quarters if the sudden glare directed at him by Dr. O'Deorain was anything to go by. Her blue eyes shined menacingly under the light. He'd rather not admit that they intimidated him a bit.  
  
"You may call me Moira. I assume that you are Winston?" He gave a silent nod. He lingered under her gaze long enough for him to need to restrain himself from fidgeting. "I will also assume you are not incompetent. Anyone coming from Horizon is surely anything but. Find me if you need me. Try not to need me." He leaned further away when she pushed past his guide and strode down the hall.

Well, that could have ended much worse, he thought as he watched her leave. While he survived his first encounter with Moira O'Deorain, he wasn't out of the woods yet. He had heard two voices in that room. Moira had left, leaving another in behind in the lab. Bracing himself, he turned back towards the door.  
  
Angela Ziegler was not what he expected to come out of the doorway. She had a slight scowl and was shorter that Moira, but no less intimidating. At least the scowl wasn't directed at him.  
  
When she turned towards him, her lips shifted into a warm smile. She looked tired, but approachable nonetheless. He felt himself relax.  
  
"I do apologize. We normally keep our disagreements out of the lab, but I'm afraid we may have lost our tempers," she said.  
  
He laughed and adjusted his glasses. "It's alright. I know a thing or two about losing one's temper."  
  
She continued to smile at him. "It's very nice to meet you, Winston," he reached out to meet the hand that she offered, "I'm afraid I can't stay and talk. I have to find Moira before she terrorizes anyone. An apology or two might also be in order. Feel free to come by my lab if you'd like."  
  
Releasing each other's hand, he watched her turn and follow in Moira's direction. Once she had turned the corner, his guide began walking down the hall as well.  
  
Following behind, he couldn't help but ask, "Are they always like this?"  
  
His guide snorted. "Only every time I see them. They fight like cats and dogs, but I've yet to see them actually go for the throat. Let them be and they'll be fine. Doesn't matter who starts it. Never seen them stay upset at each other for very long. Until the next time anyway."  
  
Winston felt a bit better. It would be much easier to work without worrying about his peers fighting again. It still left him with a possible problem. "I don't think Moira likes me very much..."  
  
His guide laughed at the statement. "She doesn't like anyone except Ziegler, big guy. Don't take it personally." Winston almost flinched in surprise when he felt his guide pat his arm.  
  
He could work with that. Science brings together all sorts after all.

\---

Gabriel Reyes remembers a moment to be kept secret.  
  
Gabriel wasn't one to delve too deep into the lives of his agents. Being in Blackwatch meant that sometimes, you didn't want to know. Their missions were always under the radar and all information was on a need to know basis. No one had all the information, not even him.

Knowing meant you could be lead into being compromised. Being compromised could lead to the death of his agents and his enemies. He cared about his agents, he did, but he'd seen what fraternization and knowing enough information did. It never ended pretty.  
  
Despite this, somehow it had led him to information he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to know.  
  
Earlier, he was having a bit of a problem with some unintended side effects of his SEP conditioning with no solution. So, he had called for help from the best geneticist he knew.  
  
Moira knew more about his condition than he had ever told her, but he wasn't going to check and see if she was involved in the program. She knew what she did, as did he. That was more than enough for him.  
  
His body was starting to tire. His cells were regenerating but his skin was beginning to blacken. The pain hadn't come yet but it was only a matter of time. He needed assistance. This is what he knew.

He didn't have any missions for a few days so he took the opportunity to check in with Moira. Maybe she would be able to stabilize him again.  
  
It was late. Most of the base had already gone to bed, but he went to Moira's office anyway. She was notorious for being too distracted by her work to sleep, meaning his odds of her being awake were high.  
  
He reached the door of her office and knocked. A dim light was on so she was probably at her desk. He'd wait until the door opened. Moira appreciated good manners. Disrespect meant she was more likely to jab him with a needle out of spite. Jesse found that out the hard way. Maybe Moira will succeed in teaching that kid some manners.  
  
He focused on the sudden disembodied voice in the hall. "Dr. O'Deorain has given you permission to enter her office. I'm afraid she's unable to get to the door herself. She did ask to pass on a message. She says, 'tell Reyes to be quiet or I'll use him as a lab rat'."  
  
At Athena's instructions, he clenched his jaw shut. He'd be quiet. He didn't need to know why. She was helping him at her expense. He would follow her instructions.  
  
His hands gripped the door handle and he crept into the office. With a soft click, he closed the door.  
  
Turning around, he looked towards her desk and furrowed his brows when he saw that she wasn't there. He looked around the office. She had to be around here somewhere. His brows disappeared into his hat when he saw her laying on the couch, pinned under a sleeping Angela, who had buried her face into Moira's neck. Moira's larger coat draped over them.  
  
Her mismatched eyes began to glow when her earpiece lit up to pull up a small screen in front of her face. Once lit up, she pointed to her desk. Turning, he saw a now glowing holopad. Moving towards it, he picked it up to see what was on it. There was a simple message and a keyboard.  
  
'What is it? Make it quick.'  
  
He'd play along. "SEP. Need stabilization," he typed. Her reply was near instant.  
  
'Symptoms?'  
  
"Black discoloration on skin. Exhaustion. Sore muscles. No pain. Sore throat." He waited.  
  
'Cabinet 3. Middle shelf. Small blue bottle. Take 3. Take the bottle. Stay quiet or I'll flay you alive.'  
  
He didn't know if the chill up his spine was from the side effects or the threat. He backed away from the desk and went to the cabinets. Luckily, she kept everything labeled.  
  
Inside the cabinet were multiple bottles filled with all sorts of pills and liquids. All experimental. Finding the blue bottle, he took it without a sound. It was filled with little green tablets. He dry swallowed the three as instructed. Once swallowed, he closed the cabinet. He turned to make his way back to the desk with the bottle in hand when he nearly stumbled.  
  
He couldn't tear his eyes away from the odd sight. Moira was being gentle.  
  
Angela had shifted under the coat until it had slipped from her shoulders and almost landing on the floor. Moira caught the coat and had begun to murmur into Angela's ear when she began to stir from the movement. Moira paid no mind to him as she slowly adjusted the coat on top of them again. She hadn't stopped her words, but now wrapped her arm around Angela's shoulders.  
  
He silently hurried towards the computer when Moira glared at him. There were times that being a master of stealth had its advantages.

There was a message for him.  
  
'Not a word. The tablets will stabilize you for 1 week. Further treatment cannot begin until bottle is empty. Take 3 weekly. Return when empty. Return if anything changes.'  
  
"You got it." He understood when to seek information and when to let sleeping dogs lie. Knowing would not benefit him. They were allies and he would treat the information as such until further notice.  
  
After tucking the bottle into the pocket of his jacket, his exit was interrupted by a message.  
  
'Your discretion is noted.'  
  
He turned and walked out. Her eyes burned into his back.  
  
Once in the empty hallway, he clasped his hand around the bottle in his pocket, then left for his quarters.  
  
Gabriel Reyes would keep her secrets so long as she kept his.  
  
Reaper would honor their unofficial agreement.

\---

Satya Vaswani remembers a stolen moment shared by some uninvited guests.  
  
For some reason, she was hosting tea in her, private, Oasis home with one, Ana Amari. And Sombra. She couldn't forget Sombra if she tried.

Not only did Sombra crash her lunch many weeks ago, she brought along the Amari. As she was in public, she didn't make a scene and simply added their order to her check. And unfortunately, they followed her home and now made it a regular occurrence to stop by around noon for tea when they were in the area. No matter how much she had protested.  
  
Sombra, who could not sit like a dignified individual, was nearly falling out of her chair. Leaning back in her seat, she pressed against the table edge with crossed legs until the chair tilted backward on two legs. Her content hums into her chamomile tea filled the silence. Satya had begun to carry it in her home as Sombra rarely drank any other kind without causing a fuss. It was a miracle she had not fallen over and spilled it everywhere.  
  
Ana held herself with respect. Back straight, teacup treated with care. Ana always brought tea she had picked up on her travels to share. They were delightful. Ana was a pleasure to host.  
  
Now if only Sombra could sit in her chair like a civilized human being. Satya was going to ignore it as much as possible.  
  
"Remind me how you two came to meet?" she asked.  
  
Sombra's eyes lit up when Ana cleared her throat to speak, "We agreed to not speak of it"  
  
"Oh?" Satya was now curious.  
  
"No, Amari said not to mention it. I said no such thing," Sombra placed her cup down and leaned forward until her elbows rested on the table. The chair legs clattered onto the tile. "So here's what happened."  
  
Ana sighed and continued to drink. Satya listened to Sombra weave her tale.  
  
_"Puta madre!" Sombra swore under her breath as she slid behind some bushes._  
  
_The German Shepherd was closing in and she needed an out. She was good at getting people to do what she needed, but this one animal refused to listen to her. Animals were usually easy to distract, but this one was well trained, enhanced, enormous, and she had no chance of escaping without notice or injury if she attacked the dog. Hacking the damn thing wasn't even a possibility._  
  
_She scrambled up into a nearby tree and glared at the agitated dog circling the base and nearby shrubbery._  
  
_"When did they even bring you here?" She wracked her brain to find out when they could have possibly brought the damn dog. The dog should have still been at the vet’s along with the other one damnit. She had been distracted enough to not notice the figure beside her answer the question. She drew her gun._  
  
_"Angela brought Pavel yesterday if I remember correctly." Ana watched the dog, feeling no threat from the gun currently against her temple. "I don't recommend that if you want to keep secret. It's dark out and your bullets leave quite the spectacle."_  
  
_After a moment, Sombra holstered her gun. "Está bien, abuela."_  
  
_Ana kept her voice low. "I'm assuming you came for one of the two. Not Angela. Or you would have noticed the dog earlier. So you're after Moira."_  
  
_"None of your business, abuela."_  
  
_"They know we're here."_  
  
_"They've been distracted." Sombra scowled._  
  
_"Don't be a fool. If their personal security didn't catch you, the dog certainly did. And if Pavel knows, so do they."_  
  
_Sombra looked up to watch the window. It was open with the curtains pulled aside. She could see them inside._  
  
_Angela had been reading a book while sitting in an armchair. Moira appeared from the kitchen to make a beeline towards Angela._  
  
_Moira gripped the book on the open page and held it above her head, then leaned down to trap Angela in the chair with her free arm._  
  
_Angela had stretched, trying to reach it, but had quickly chosen another tactic when Moira moved the book so it rested against her back and out of reach._  
  
_Angela pressed in close and let her hands dance along the edge of Moira's green sweater. She grinned when she felt Moira shudder when her fingertips made contact with cool skin._  
  
_Leaning into each other, they were soon focused on the kiss. When Moira eased into her, Angela took advantage of the opening._  
  
_Sombra watched Angela's hands dart for her prize behind Moira's back. Once the book was in her grasp, she could see Angela give a cheer of victory as she leaned away._  
  
_Moira had laughed and pulled back from the chair. Holding out her hand, she helped Angela stand._  
  
_Angela reached for the end table to get what she assumed was a sort of bookmark. Once the book was marked and set aside, Angela walked out of the room towards the kitchen._  
  
_Moira went to the open window, and before she could shut the curtains, she turned to where the dog was still pacing. She stared at the tree. Moira whistled, sharp and quick. The dog raised its head and charged towards a door through the back of the house. After a beat, Moira closed the curtain._  
  
_It was silent, and possibly a bit crowded, in the tree._  
  
_"So maybe they do know we're here. What of it? We were going to interrupt anyway. I was hoping to do it alone though..."_  
  
_Ana scoffed. The young were always so quick to dismiss._  
  
_"Since Pavel gave us away, and there's more of us than planned, would you mind if we attempted contact another day? And we keep quiet about what happened." Ana wasn't sure who Sombra actually was, but she knew that as of now, they were not enemies. So she would let it go._  
  
_"If you insist, abuela." Sombra was patient, so she'd work with the old lady if it meant getting some alone time with her target. She disappeared from sight and dashed off the property and into the streets of Oasis to regroup._  
  
_Ana snuck out of the tree and escaped into a dimly lit alley. She wasn't sure why, but she had a feeling it wouldn't be the first time they ran into each other. Especially if Angela and Moira were involved._  
  
"-and that's how we met. I looked for her the next day, found her, then ran into you! And here we are." Proud of her story, Sombra finished what was left of her tea in satisfaction and leaned back into her chair.  
  
Ana pinched the bridge of her nose.  
  
Satya sighed. Maybe she'd relay the story to Angela and Moira the next time they invited her over for dinner. They apparently already knew, so might as well.

\---

Angela and Moira remember a moment only ever understood by each other.  
  
Overwatch needed the medical nanobots completed and ready for their field agents, thus, as head of medical and genetics respectively, Angela and Moira were put to work. It was the first time they had properly worked together in the few weeks they had known each other.  
  
Between their combined skills, it should have been a simple process.  
  
However, the nanites were giving them trouble. They would locate and repair tissue damage fine, but they were too disorganized.  
  
They had attempted to program them with a clear leader, but if the leader took any damage, the rest would remain aimless.  
  
A swarm was too focused, in a chaotic sort of way. They would repair the tissue, but would become uncontrollable and aggressive if ever interrupted. They had a habit of being unable to prioritize as needed.  
  
They've been awake for hours on end with little rest.  
  
"Maybe we should have brought stronger coffee," Moira said with a yawn as leaned back in her chair to stretch. She snickered when Angela began to yawn shortly after. Their empty mugs sat abandoned on the table.  
  
The bags under their eyes were growing more noticeable with each passing hour.  
  
"Whatever is in your flask would make the coffee stronger. That’d wake us up." Angela responded to Moira's tired smirk with a withering stare, "and that's still not an invitation to drink in the lab."  
  
Moira's grin never diminished, "Maybe one day I'll lead you astray."  
  
Angela chuckled at the drawl in her words, "The only thing you'll lead me to is permanent liver damage." Shuffling the papers in front of her, Angela froze when one of them had sliced her finger, leaving an angry, red line.  
  
They froze. A thought struck. As a drop of blood began to pool, Moira dashed to retrieve a tray of bots. Angela had grabbed a nearby dropper to collect the blood sample.  
  
She emptied the sample into the tray in Moira's hands. They watched as the blood began to disappear and the bots began to glow white. That was new. As the bots waited for instruction, the pair split off in opposite directions to gather the test materials. Moira, to a sample of their modified bacteria colonies; Angela, to the headpiece of her developing Valkyrie suit.  
  
Once Angela connected the headpiece, she nodded to Moira once they stood next to each other. Moira then began to carefully spread out the various colonies across the table.  
  
They watched as Angela carefully directed the swarming bots to the colonies until the bacteria had disappeared with a yellow glow.  
  
Once the yellow light faded to back to white, Angela removed her headpiece and set it on the table. Beads of sweat were forming on her brow. Her breathing had grown heavier.  
  
"They need a focus beyond the headpiece to maintain a steady connection and direction, but it will work. I could use the Caduceus Staff." Angela stared at the trays in wonder.  
  
"Before completing their objective, they needed a biological signature to bond with their guide. Without it, they were too impersonal and mechanic." Moira couldn't control her disbelief.  
  
Moira's disbelief turned to shock when she felt something warm nearly crash into her side. Looking down, she rose a brow on seeing Angela wrapped around her torso in glee. It was sudden, but not quite unwelcome. The moment didn't last long as Angela had let go almost as quickly with a matching look of shock.  
  
They stared at each other. Resisting the urge to shift their weight, the sudden feeling of shyness overtook them both.  
  
Angela was the first to break the silence, "I apologize. I don't know what came over me."  
  
"Excitement, it would seem. But I wouldn't mind spending more time together to be certain." Moira's voice had almost dropped to a whisper, as if fearing anything louder would disrupt their breakthrough. At least, that’s what they would tell people. Moira would mention the fear in her gut only once, years later.  
  
Angela swallowed her nerves. She wouldn’t mention her own fear until much later. Before they were consumed by their exhaustion, Angela's reply was firm, but just as quiet.  
  
"I think...that I would like that."  
  
Their tension eased.

They smiled when fear turned to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw a doodle somewhere of mercy with a large dog and I couldn't help myself. There's also a story to the dog's name. Pavel is named after one of my professor's birds. "Pavel the finch is a binch." - my professor
> 
> Moira scares her interns.
> 
> I love Sombra. My sister texted me in angry spanish when the Sombra short was released and went off about how she was expecting an awesome character but instead she got me in cartoon form with cooler hair and if she wanted to see a gay ass mexican acting shady and being an overall nuisance, she'd just come over to my apartment. I was only mildly offended. My hair is amazing. Rude.
> 
> Have another deleted scene friends
> 
> -
> 
> Angela poked her head out of the kitchen and watched Moira walk away from the closed curtains, “Drat. They left.”
> 
> “Good. I only made enough food for the two of us.” Moira reached for the glasses to pour the wine.
> 
> “Shame. Maybe some other time.” Angela filled the bowl labeled ‘Pavel’. She waited until Pavel came charging down the hall into the kitchen. She patted his back when he happily buried his snout into the bowl.
> 
> “No. If they can’t announce themselves like proper adults, then they can stay outside with the dog. Not like Satya. She knocks and calls ahead if there’s a delay. Remind me to give her the blueprints for the new wing of the Ministry before the meeting next week.” Moira finished serving their food. 
> 
> “And remind me to give Pavel a treat.”
> 
> “You spoil him too much.”
> 
> Angela’s gasp was too dramatic to be sincere. “How dare you? I could never spoil him too much. You speak lies and slander,” she looked over to where Pavel was still eating. “Pavel is a good boy.”
> 
> “I stand by what I said. Spoiled.”
> 
> -
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	9. I Will Unmake You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela is stronger than she looks. Moira would think that it was hot if Angela wasn't about to throw her off a cliff.

Despite her stature and appearance, Angela exercised regularly and was actually quite strong. She simply didn't attempt to bulk up. It wasn't her priority. Her priority was agility as a field medic, protection in case she gets separated from her squad, and the strength to be able to carry injured soldiers and civilians out of danger as quickly as possible. So, she increased her training regimens regularly and as needed.  
  
Moira was one person who rarely forgot that Angela could drop kick her into next week. It wasn't that it made her nervous or that she was afraid of her, no. It was simply the little displays of strength that made it hard to forget that Angela hid steel under her clothes. And they were definitely more common the more someone watched.  
  
A box that was difficult to lift for a regular person. An increase in weights when she found Angela in the gym. Training in her Valkyrie Suit at high altitudes and speeds.  
  
The weight of her staff alone was heavier than Moira expected. Not only was it a field tool, it was reinforced to prevent damage in case it needed to be used as a weapon. It was heavy. And Angela swung around as if it weighed nothing.  
  
Moira had training, but not to Angela's level. Moira was a scientist who usually stayed in her lab. But as an agent of Blackwatch, she had been given basic training for emergencies. Angela was regularly on the field. Yes, Moira could stop an enemy if she wanted to, but she would rather stay in her lab. Fading while running, was more work than it looked after all.  
  
She knew Angela was the stronger of the two of them. It wasn’t something that she ever denied or even questioned. It was simply a fact. A fact that Angela never felt the need to prove to anyone.

So how did she still end up over Angela's shoulder like a sack of potatoes?

 _"You look like a load for four." Moira snickered when Angela groaned into the pillow she took from one of the medical cots. She was freshly showered, in loose clothing, and laid on an examination table covered in shrinking bruises._  
  
_She normally hated seeing Angela bruised and battered but she let it go when they were made in training. Bruises on base were preferred over injury in the field. Besides, the nanites were already healing the damage._  
  
_Except this time, instead of concern, she couldn't help her amusement. "I tried to warn you that Reinhardt was showboating to the new recruits today." She sat on the cot next to Angela's blue torso._  
  
_"It wasn't my fault that he decided to include everyone nearby into his storytelling. Which just so happened to include me." Angela's words remained muffled._  
  
_Moira ran her right hand across Angela's back, being careful not to aggravate the bruises any further. The veins in her arm pulsed when her nanites detected Angela's at work. If she had her gear, she'd help, but for now, Angela was left to her body's sore misery._  
  
_"You know that roughhousing with Reinhardt isn't for the weak." She pulled her hand away from Angela's shoulder when she felt her tense. Concerned, she carefully pulled the shirt aside to inspect the bruise. The skin was yellowing, and while the marks were large, it didn't look serious. At the rate the bruise was shrinking, it should be fully healed within a few minutes._  
  
_She stopped her inspection when she saw a sharp blue eye peeking out from the edge of the pillow. Angela's eyes narrowed._  
  
_She didn't get the chance the react when Angela slid off the table. She felt warm arms sliding around her back. Knowing what was coming next, she tried to move out of the way._

_She was too slow. Angela had swept her off her feet._

_Literally._

_It happened so fast that she could only blink once she realized that she was no longer touching the ground. Her lab coat stopped fluttering from the movement once she was still. Looking up, she was met with Angela's glare. Her eyes were as heated as the temperature rose with their combined body heat._  
  
_She tried to move but Angela was too strong. There was no escaping her grip. Fading was a possibility but escaping so easily was no fun. It might also annoy Angela enough for her to sync their bots so that Angela could catch her if she tried to fade._  
  
_The last time she was carried was when she was injured or back when she still a child. While her body was lean, she was still rather heavy. However, despite the injuries and bruises, there was no strain on Angela's face from holding her weight._  
  
_Show no weakness. She held firm when Angela leaned in closer. She’d play Angela’s game._  
  
_"Liebling. Are you implying that I'm weak?"_  
  
Moira swallowed.  
  
Wait, that's right. She had accidentally challenged Angela.  
  
Drat.  
  
Her lack of an answer earlier had resulted in being thrown over Angela's shoulders. She reconsidered fading again but it didn't end well the last time she used it to escape an irritated Angela, so she decided that she wasn't about to antagonize her further.

Thus, she was stuck hanging over Angela’s shoulder. She adjusted her arms so they rested against Angela’s back. Raising one, she dropped her chin on her open palm to think. Her fingers tapped on her cheek.  
  
Angela was carrying her somewhere and she wasn't exactly sure where. She recognized the rarely used halls, but that didn't help her deduce Angela's destination. The paths weaved through the rock until they let out towards the shorelines of Gibraltar.

She remembered a mild threat that Angela would say at least once every time they would get stationed at the Watchpoint. It appeared that Angela might actually follow through with it for once.

She squirmed but huffed when she couldn’t slip out. Perhaps if someone caught them, Angela would put her down. She wasn't that lucky.  
  
No one was going to see them. These passageways might as well be abandoned. Athena was the only one to monitor this area, and since there was no life-threatening danger, Athena wasn't going to talk. Athena’s privacy settings were useful but sometimes, they were the bane of her existence.  
  
"I can hear you thinking."  
  
Moira would have startled from her thoughts if she was a lesser being. And this higher being did not want to give Angela the satisfaction of knowing that she was trying to plot her escape.  
  
"I was simply wondering if you were going to finally throw me off the cliff like you always promised, dear one," she said. Angela's hum told her that the waters of Gibraltar's shore awaited her. Maybe she could stall. Those waters were cold this time of year.  
  
"Maybe if you hadn't been a nuisance, it wouldn't have crossed my mind today. Think of it as taking a very cold bath," she almost flinched when she felt Angela pinch her leg. Almost. Moira was stone. She had witnesses that would back her claim. Or she'd fire them.  
  
"Perhaps I was a bit hasty with my words." Angela didn't slow. Damn. "What I meant was that while you are certainly not weak in the knees, only Reinhardt can suffer another Reinhardt. And Torbjörn on a good day." Moira grunted when her weight was adjusted as Angela began to slow. Angela dropped to a crouch until she could swing Moira’s torso square across both shoulders. Well, there went her nice view of Angela’s backside. She’d mourn it another time.  
  
With her face pressed against Angela’s shoulder, she continued, "Reinhardt can make a right mess of anything if he puts his mind to it." They had made it to one of the back gates of the base. The shoreline wasn't too far off, only about a 5-minute walk. "And you are one hard mess to make. I'm surprised that he was able to rough you up at all. "  
  
Angela had stopped. She was making progress. She had one more shot at convincing Angela to set her down before she had to do her best impression of a drowned rat.  
  
She raised her head to look around only to find herself cheek to cheek with Angela. She hadn't realized that they were so close. Being significantly taller, she sometimes miscalculated their size differences in these types of situations. It’s not as if she made it a habit of letting Angela throw her over her shoulder.  
  
Quickly recalculating her original plan, she looked at Angela out of the corner of her eye.  
  
She could swear she saw her own red eye reflected in Angela's blue one. Moira didn't try to turn her head, only let her visible eye stare into Angela's gaze.  
  
The air between them began to crackle. This was an energy that they were intimately familiar with. She just needed to give Angela a proper incentive. Everyone can be persuaded with the right reward.  
  
A hair's breadth away from Angela's ear, her voice turned low and slow. Angela would surely put her down now.  
  
"What say we find out exactly how long it takes to make a proper mess of you?"  
  
When a dangerous shine appeared in Angela’s eyes, Moira smirked. Now that was a look she certainly enjoyed seeing. The air was almost stifling with silence.

Angela suddenly pivoted and now began to carry her back towards the base.

She continued to watch Angela out of the corner of her eye. She had won.  
  
For once, she didn't mind being carried now that there was a new destination, and she had a good guess that it would be a location with Athena’s privacy protocol in full effect.  
  
She had a feeling that when Angela finally set her down, she’d be pushed to her limits when Angela claimed her prize.  
  
She was perfectly fine with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they totally banged. Athena was shook.
> 
> Angela is buff and no one can convince me otherwise. That bitch be strong. Two handed staffs are hard. Running is hard. Flying is hard. Doing all three in heels is even harder. Bitch can probably crush man's head like sparrow's egg between thighs. I volunteer as tribute. 
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	10. Protect the Objective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela gets a personal guard.

After Angela was no longer part of Overwatch, they faced a dilemma. Angela no longer had the protection of a higher organization, meaning she was now a much easier target when alone. Angela was no pushover, but she'd already been almost abducted by talon and bounty hunters three times in the past month alone.

Personally, Moira didn't have much of a problem in that situation. She had accepted a position in Oasis' Ministry shortly after the Petras Act. The position came with quite a few perks: a large house, privacy, protection, and fantastic pay. And while the authorities in Oasis are top notch, they're not able to handle agents belonging to Talon.

Talon wanted Angela's brain. The hunters wanted the reward. Moira just wanted Angela happy and healthy and in one piece damnit.

Unfortunately, with Moira settling in as Minister, she spent too much time away from home to give Angela an extra set of eyes to watch her back whenever possible. They had completely reconfigured the built-in security system to make sure it wasn't too invasive in case there's a breach, but she'd prefer to watch out for Angela personally until the heat died down. Angela would probably have tied her up and thrown in a closet if she actually did. She knows. She tried. Angela threatened the smallest closet in the house with no light.

So she brainstormed and experimented to find a way to protect Angela from the various people hunting her as soon as soon as there was an inkling of Angela losing Overwatch's protection. It didn't help that Angela rarely stayed in one place for too long. She always came back but when someone called for help, Mercy would always answer and go where Moira can't follow.

After much thought, she found a solution. It had taken many months of work and resources, and it would have taken much longer if she was anyone else, but at last, her project was finally complete. It would still take work afterward, but it was nothing that they couldn't handle.

With her successful project in hand, she unlocked the door and stepped inside their living room. It was cozy. Definitely nicer than their quarters back at Overwatch and Blackwatch. They had kept the estate provided by the Ministry, however they chose to furnish it themselves. The original furniture was too sterile. It reminded them of the Overwatch bases.

The lights were on and yet, Angela was nowhere to be seen. A ball of dread began to churn in her stomach at the thought of Talon returning for her. The lack of mess made it slightly more bearable, however, it did nothing to ease her nerves. Her project didn't alert to any foreign presences, but it was still too early to fully trust it. She was about to storm her way through the building when she saw Angela stepping out of their room.

Her heart rate calmed once she saw Angela running her hands through damp hair in an effort to wrangle the blonde locks into something manageable. She was in a pair of shorts and a loose button up shirt.  Angela smiled at her when she looked up. She smiled back.

Angela stopped when saw the brown bundle that Moira carried. It looked small, curled up against Moira's tall frame.

"Liebling, what is that?" She blinked when a small, furry head popped up at the sound of her voice. The head turned to face her, ears flopping when it tilted its head. Bright, brown eyes studied her. They were more intelligent than she expected and she had to resist the urge to pat its head.

"A puppy. A genetically enhanced, three month old, German Shepherd puppy." Moira adjusted the puppy until it hung in the space between them. A tag jingled as it dropped from its spot on his leather collar. "Your puppy to be precise. His name is Pavel.” Moira paused. “I didn't name him."

Angela stared at Moira. She wasn’t buying it.

“Fine. That’s a lie. I did name him.”

Satisfied, Angela moved on to her next question, "Why do I have a puppy?" Angela reached out to press her fingers against his soft fur. Pavel happily licked her fingers and wriggled until Moira had to set him in Angela's arms. Angela continued her path to the living room, but this time she held a puppy.

"Careful with him, dear one. He's still young. He's about 50% bigger than the rest of his breed, but he will be still be small enough that we can pass him off as a crossbreed or hybrid. He technically shouldn’t exist," Moira followed Angela, her words slowly trailing off after seeing Angela’s disapproving glance, “Don’t worry. The paperwork will cover my tracks.” Angela rolled her eyes.

Once Angela sat down on the couch, Moira followed suit to take a seat next them. "I wanted you to have extra protection when you're out and about. His breed already had the traits I needed, but I modified his loyalty, senses, and overall intelligence, among other things, to be higher and sharper than that of a regular dog’s," Pavel rolled onto his back to have his stomach scratched. Moira humored him. "But even with his enhancements, he's still just a dog."

Angela studied the dog. He looked like a typical German Shepherd his age. His ears drooped a bit, fluffy, large paws, and a dark coat of puppy fur. The only differences between him and a regular dog was his size. She didn't see very many puppies of his type for comparison, but even she could see he that he was definitely larger than average. And if his large paws were anything to go by, she could only take a guess as to just how massive he'll be in the future.

"He'll need training and care. I had him imprint on you so that it is easier to bond with him." Angela chuckled when his tongue lolled out of his mouth. He looked up at her with an adoration only comparable to each other's. He nudged his head into her palm.

"So this means that I have a personal guard now."

"Correct. The others whose enhancements faded with time were sent out to be adopted as pets or working dogs. Pavel’s one of two successful specimens. The other is still in testing. Pavel can't be bribed, hacked, turned against you, and will trust you above all else. He'll watch out for you when I can't and protect you when you’re alone." Moira pulled her hand away from his belly when he began to nod off. She rested her arm on the back of the couch behind Angela to lean into her.

Angela ran her hand down his spine as Pavel rolled onto his side. He continued to snooze without a care.

"Do you like him?"

Angela turned to look up at Moira, who had already looked away. Moira's jaw had clenched and she could feel her arm fidgeting against her back. She pressed into Moira’s side so she could turn towards her as much as she could without disturbing Pavel. Unable to reach further, she laid a gentle kiss on Moira's jaw.

She pulled away when Pavel stirred. She giggled when she saw him startle awake as he almost rolled off her lap. He blinked, yawned, then curled back up on her lap.

"I love him. Thank you."

Moira's arm stopped fidgeting.

-

As for Pavel, he officially earned his keep around the house the first time he had mercilessly mauled an intruder in their home during the night. It wouldn't be the last time someone attempted to get to Angela, but the attacks certainly slowed when rumors flew that she had a beast the size of a bear ready to attack all trespassers. He had yet to reach a full year of age.

However, it was the first time that Moira became nearly unbearable with her comments over how her work on him was perfect. So apparently perfect in fact, that Moira brought the second specimen home from the lab and claimed as her own. The young doberman was spoiled rotten alongside Pavel, though Moira claimed otherwise.

“Hypocrite,” Angela would mutter anytime Moira was caught sneaking the dogs treats.

Pavel had someone to protect - Angela showered him with love and attention. He had a another dog friend that he spent time with when he was alone. He also had the bigger human who also fed and patted him sometimes. His human liked Moira, so he liked her too, even if she did sometimes mutter about betrayal under her breath when he’d bring something of hers to Angela.

Pavel wasn’t quite sure what that word meant. He just knew that that word was one that occasionally caused him to be on high alert. There were also several other words that he didn’t like being used against his charge. It was his duty to be on alert for those words and make sure that Angela was protected. Being the best guard ever was a duty he took very seriously. 

Pavel was content in his duty.

Angela was content with not needing to watch her own back so closely anymore.

Moira was content knowing that Pavel was only an idiot when Angela wasn’t in any danger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My professor has these three finches. Pavel, Boris, and Jacques. Everyone collectively calls them "PB & J". He named them after famous people. Pavel, a russian physicist. Boris, a russian tsar. Jacques, a french biologist. Pavel is a jealous ho. Pavel likes to sit on the prof's shoulders and likes to peck at anyone that gets too close to the prof. 
> 
> "Oh I'm Pavel and I tried to rip out Boris' feathers because Jacques was cuddled up to him instead of me because i'm a jealous ho and now i'm on time out!" -prof
> 
> I originally had this chapter in editing before the year of the dog event and was deciding between a german shepherd and a doberman. I went with a german shepherd mostly because I can use my sister's stupid german shepherd's (she's not smart but she's pretty. Who needs beauty when you're a good dog.) dumb shenanigans as inspiration. But then I saw Moira's dog person spray and ended up giving her the doberman alongside Pavel too. Thus, I shuffled some minor details and now there are two Moicy puppies. :)
> 
> Also, have a deleted doggo scene.  
>   
> 
> -
> 
> “Hello, Muffin.” Moira bristled at Angela’s cooing towards Mistral.
> 
> “Her name is Mistal. She is a mighty and fierce doberman. Not some common street animal!” Mistal appeared to have no qualms towards the nickname if the wagging tail was any indication. It caused soft thumps as it swept into the leg of the coffee table. Her head dropped onto Angela’s lap, ears flopping open.
> 
> Moira turned towards the sudden thud.
> 
> Pavel had flopped onto his back next to Angela. Mistral followed suit. She stepped back when their tails firmly hit the side of her legs. Angela continued to coo at their dogs as she rubbed at their bellies. They were in bliss.
> 
> “Traitors,” Moira sat with a sigh. Crossing her legs, she reached out to help with the belly rubs when all three began to look at her.
> 
> -
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	11. No Need to Mess About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira isn't fond of her interns. Or she is. No one can ever really tell.

Angela knocked on the door to Moira’s office. The shuffling behind her increased. Moira was supposed to greet her new interns, but became distracted by paperwork for her department. She preferred not to leave new interns alone for long periods of time, so Angela had offered to bring her the new interns down to the lab.

Overwatch provided them with interns, and while Angela appreciated the extra hands, Moira’s had a tendency to leave. And by the irritated voice on the other side of the door, Angela had a few guesses as to why. Moira always got rather sharp with her interns, regardless of the situation. Luckily, these two interns looked competent, if a little terrified out of their minds. They’d last longer than the others. She hoped.

The two new interns glanced at each other. They knew that their new supervisor was one, Dr. Moira O’Deorain, who, unfortunately, had a bit of a reputation. The turnover rate for the job was incredibly high, and during the interview with some of Overwatch scientists, they couldn’t really blame the others for leaving. Moira, while not saying a word the entire time, was the most terrifying out of the lot.

They turned back to stare at Angela. According to the rest of the staff that they had met, she was the only one who was willing to go find Moira without hesitation. She wasn’t as scary as their supervisor. But, the initial concern about Moira only increased as they heard the muffled voices.

They straightened when the door swung open. Moira towered over Angela and themselves. Her red and blue eyes sent shivers down their spine. Her lab coat was firmly closed and her tie was impeccable. It was too late to adjust their own clothing.

“Zeigler. I assume these are the new interns?”

They forced themselves not to shrink under her calculating gaze. Angela stood relaxed with her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. If she could stand there without flinching, so could they. They hoped.

Angela held an easy smile that didn't falter at Moira's sneer, “Don’t frighten them off like the others.”

“Only if they’re incompetent.” They watched Moira step forward until she was face to face with Angela They gulped but didn’t move forward. It seemed that there was a standstill, but neither knew what to do. So, they went with the safe option. They watched. The stares between Angela and Moira were heated and neither intern knew what to make of it.

“Settle them in and meet with me later.”

They watched Angela turn and begin walking down the hall. They didn’t miss the smirk on Moira’s face. It was unsettling. They startled when she turned back to face them.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Come inside.”

When she went back inside her office, they dutifully followed. Once the door was closed, they were met with a pair of holopads. The man who held them was of decent height, dark haired and skinned, with calm brown eyes. His white coat was buttoned and neat. He was perfectly average. It was soothing after facing off with Moira's intensity.

“No questions until the documents are signed. You will sign NDAs for both Overwatch and my lab. All rules and regulations about what is expected of you is in the document. You are to read them and memorize them, otherwise you will be out that door faster than you came in. I will not tolerate complacency. You are here to learn how to do your job correctly. I will act accordingly.”

They took the pens handed to them by the man and signed the document in the various markings throughout. Once signed, he took the holopad and brought them over to set onto Moira’s desk. She looked through the holopads to make sure that all of the documentation was signed and dated correctly. The interns fidgeted as Moira inspected the paperwork with a meticulous eye. 

She spoke up without looking up from the holopads. “Meet your peer, Intern #1. He used to be Intern #3, but with your arrival, he was promoted to Number One.” Number One waved. They waved back.

“Casey,” they startled and the female of the pair stepped forward, “You will be Intern #2. Tom,” the other of the two stepped next to Casey, “you will be Intern #3.” Neither Tom nor Casey questioned their new names, or lack thereof.

“I have very few rules that I personally need followed and acknowledged. Follow my directions, keep everything confidential, don’t waste my time, and if I'm out of the lab, don’t look for me after dark unless the lab itself is on fire and it’s not supposed to be.” They grasped the coats and keys that Moira held out to them. She then returned the holopads to them as well.

“Read over the added documents on your holopad. Most initial questions you have will be answered inside. Any further questions, direct to Number One. Anything he cannot assist you with, come to me or any of your superiors.” They nodded and watched Moira gather a set of papers, then head to the door.

She stood in the door and seemed to relax. Slightly. They weren't exactly sure. “Remember, you are scientists. Mistakes are welcome and expected. Without them, we don’t learn. When we don’t learn, we cannot advance and discover.” They said nothing when the door closed behind her.

The room was silent until they heard a throat clear behind them. They turned to face Number One, who held out his hand for a handshake.

“My name is Chava. Moira probably won’t call you by your name unless she’s upset with you.” He grinned when the two shook his hand. “C’mon. Let me show you around.”

Following him, they made their way down the hall. They almost stumbled when he handed them each a memory card. Almost. Their speed somehow didn’t falter either. 

“Now that she’s gone, I downloaded an addendum file to the document onto those. We all lovingly call it the Pact of O’Deorain-Zeigler, or the P.O.Z. for short. You’ll see that they have a bit of an…unconventional relationship, and it’s best that you’re prepared. Make sure you read it, and then never tell either of them that it exists. O'Deorain isn't the only one you should watch yourself around.”

Number Two and Three swallowed. So they might have to revise their original thoughts on Moira being the scary one of the two scientists. If they were both included as extras in the memory chip, then maybe they had underestimated not only Angela, but Moira well. They made note of all the good hiding places on the tour. 

-

Moira nodded when Angela patted the open spot next to her on the couch without looking up from her book. To make sure they weren’t disturbed, she locked the office door behind her. New interns always tended to follow her around when confused. Which was most days. But it was now after dark, the lab was not on fire when she left, and she had paperwork to finish reviewing. At least she had good company.

Angela had already removed her coat, so she did the same. After hanging it on the cat rack, she went to sit next to Angela with her papers in hand.

Once her back touched the couch, she rested her elbow on the armrest while spreading her other arm against the top of the couch. Her muscles relaxed when she felt Angela curl up into her side. Her arm dropped from the couch to rest against Angela’s shoulders. Long fingers brushed the soft fabric of Angela’s sweater.

“I hope you didn’t scare the interns away. It’s only their first day.” Angela turned the page.

Moira set the papers on the armrest and raised one to review. “Not yet. They shook like leaves, but they didn’t run or cry. I’d say they made a good first impression. We’ll see if I still have only one decent intern at the end of the week.”

“Interns are helpful, Liebling.”

“Only if they’re actually competent at listening. Like your interns, dear one,” Moira’s distracted mumbling paused at a thought, “Can I have your interns? I’ll trade Intern #1 for the lot.”

The corners of Angela’s lips quirked up, “Stay away from my interns.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly set-up filler, but as per my sibling's special request, ya'll get to meet the interns that we've consistently thrown under the bus for Moicy shenanigans and scenarios. We may see them in the future when I need more shenanigans to happen that neither Angela or Moira are careless or dumb enough to cause. Besides, everyone needs a sidekick or two. Intern gossip is best gossip.
> 
> Got a more angst and drama filled one up next. But always with a happy ending or so help me...
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	12. Take A Deep Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, after a mission, they need to find forgiveness in the dark.

The silence of the night filled every corner in the room. The lines and edges of the furniture were unfamiliar but it caused them no distress. Moonlight crept inside, sneaking past the closed curtains, attempting to illuminate the room in a soft glow.

Without a word, Angela and Moira sought solace in each other. They ignored the late hour, content to rest in their moment of solitude after many rough days on the field. Here, they could stop pretending to be enemies. There was no Overwatch recall. No Talon. No carefully guarded home to consider or friends to lie to. Just a quiet and discreet room where they could simply exist.

So they allowed themselves to exist together, determined to clear the haze of doubt clouding their minds.

Inside the room, they couldn’t remove their bloodied uniforms fast enough. The blood made their stomachs churn. Angela refused to look at the torn fabric in Moira’s suit. Moira grimaced at the stained sight of Angela’s. Both uniforms were dropped to the floor with heavy thuds and heavy hearts.

Moira followed Angela into the bathroom, blinking when Angela flipped the switch. The light flickered and buzzed for a few seconds until it maintained a steady, harsh light. Neither flinched against the cold tile under their feet. Moira closed the door behind her and watched Angela make a beeline to the shower. Her movements were near robotic.

The showerhead spurted to life with Angela’s direction. She stepped under the water. Raising her face, she closed her eyes and relished in the hot water hitting her skin. Looking down, her eyes glazed over when she saw the water swirling pink and grey down into the drain. She didn’t react when the swirls at her feet were disturbed, now with more pink tendrils coming from behind her, twisting around each other, colors quickly merging into larger splashes of brown. She bowed her head, focusing her energy on not staring at the water at their feet.

She stood still when she felt Moira’s head drop to her shoulder. Red strands of hair fell into the edge of her sight. She stepped forward to share the spray. Moira stayed close.

“It wasn’t my intent.”

Angela turned at the words. Moira’s eyes were staring at the even streaks of red across her arm, a perfect match to Moira’s claws.

Moira’s face had turned cold, remembering the blast that knocked her claws off course, originally meant to bounce harmlessly off the Valkyrie suit’s armor, not to slash deeply into Angela’s arm. It was supposed to appear as if Angela had simply skirted out of her grasp so that the Talon agents around them were kept in the dark over their relationship’s true nature, not actually flay Angela’s arm.

Angela could almost hear the dark thoughts beginning to float around in Moira’s head. She raised the injured arm to wipe away a smudge of blood off of Moira’s cheek, her reply came out strangled, “I know.”

“It wasn’t mine either,” she said, dropping her other hand to the patch of red smeared across Moira’s hip, darkest in the center. She knew that if she reached around behind Moira, she’d find a similar hole, identical to her pistol’s shots. Surrounded by her team and aiming off to Moira’s side, she squeezed the trigger knowing that it would look close, but the projectile would never make contact. However, her plan had fallen apart when one of her agents had bumped into her, making her shot veer off course and into Moira’s hip leaving them both stunned.

Moira’s voice was strained, “I know.”

They began to properly clean themselves of the dirt and grime of the mission. Even though they could see the healed flesh, they still gently scrubbed at the blood, as if the wounds still remained open. Angela slumped against Moira, letting the last traces of the battlefield disappear down the drain. She felt a strong arm slide around her back, easily holding her up despite being slick with water and soap. Moira reached her other arm past her to shut off the water as soon as it began to turn cold.

She was guided out of the shower with a loose hold. Moira held a tower in front of her before a chill could set in. It wasn’t the softest, but she was grateful for it nonetheless. Wrapped in her towel, she reached for the other one folded by the sink. She draped it over Moira’s head, the edges falling onto her pale shoulders and down her chest. Moira reached up to adjust a lock of her hair that had slipped out near the top.

Looking up at her, Moira’s eyes were still intense, but not nearly as icy as before. She watched Moira reach out towards her until Moira was gripping the towel at her sides. She felt added pressure on her sides, carefully turning her until her back faced the door, Moira still staring down at her.

She held onto her towel and began to walk backward, leaving Moira to lead them without breaking their locked gaze. Moira turned the light off on their way out of the bathroom without missing a step.

When the back of her legs bumped into the bed, she let go of her towel, then reached up to adjust the one that had begun to fall off of Moira’s head until it had settled almost neatly across Moira’s shoulders. Her red hair was wild, sticking out in random directions and still dripping with water. Angela let herself be pushed back onto the bed, using the towel wrapped around Moira’s neck to bring her closer. Moira offered no resistance, instead allowing Angela to guide her forwards.

Angela’s towel unraveled when her back hit the mattress. Moira didn’t seem to mind. If she hadn’t known better, the lack of response would have her assume that Moira hadn’t noticed. But, she knew better. Nothing escaped Moira’s notice.

In the dark, she could see that Moira’s eyes had an ethereal red and blue appearance to them, invisible in the bathroom’s light. The nanites usually stopped their shine when they had finished with their tasks, but Moira’s internal bots were likely still responding to their heightened emotions. And if she had a mirror, and was a betting woman, she would put money on her own nanites making her eyes shine a bright blue up at Moira as well.

Their lips connected in a languid kiss. She sighed into it with closed eyes when she felt a cool, too cold to be natural, hand trace the invisible lines of the slashes on her arm. The barest hints of Moira’s claws felt ghost-like, never making direct contact with her arm. She deepened the kiss, her forgiveness easily given. Moira hummed her acceptance and pulled back, breaking the kiss so that she could rest her forehead on Angela’s. Half-lidded, their eyes were no less bright when Angela felt Moira pull her hand away, light sneaking out beneath their eyelashes.

Moira’s hands, having been placed onto the bed on either side of them, gave her easy access to Angela’s loose towel. Angela felt her towel be fully pushed aside, exposing her to the night air. Moira kept their eyes locked together as her long fingers traveled across her skin.

Angela arched into her touch with a sharp intake of breath, giving Moira the chance to express her remorse. She pulled down on the towel in her hands when Moira’s left hand began to leave a hot trail down to her stomach, spreading her palm flat against her abdomen, leaving goosebumps and quivering muscles in their wake.

Moira’s hand continued its lazy path downwards. They kept their gazes steady when they saw their eyes flash brightly alongside Angela’s small gasp the instant that Moira reached her target. The slow, rhythmic thrusts were welcome, predictable and expected, nothing like the incidents from before.

The speed and restraint wasn’t simply tonight's preference, but a necessity. Wanted: to be fully aware of each other without getting lost, as they often did. Needed: to soothe their own guilt. Slowly, with ragged breaths, they came together, not as agents, soldiers, or medics, but simply as Angela and Moira, with no one to answer to but themselves and each other.

Silent apologies accompanied gentle hands across old and new wounds. Their guilt faded with each touch, nearly disappearing completely when Angela tossed her head back with a cry. Moira’s head fell until she could press her face firmly to Angela’s shoulder, bodies tensing against each other.

After their muscles uncoiled, Moira raised her arm to rest her it next to Angela’s head, dropping her weight onto it to keep stable. Their uneven breaths seemed almost painfully loud in the empty room.

Moira ran her right hand through Angela's disheveled hair until it was no longer in Angela’s face, untangling any knots with deft and careful fingers. Angela raised her hand to trace Moira's jaw.

Their breathing slowed.

Moira shifted until she could lay against Angela's side and drop her right arm across Angela's bare stomach. She dragged slow lines across Angela's ribs, being mindful of her nails’ sharp edges, careful not to sink them in and break the skin.

The nails on her right hand had inadvertently lengthened into short claws after they had come down from their shared high when she remembered why they had come together in the first place. Her harsher emotions had eased in strength, but she made sure not to agitate the nanites to keep them from sharpening or lengthening her claws any further. Just in case.

Angela pulled the covers beside them to wrap them up when she felt Moira shiver against her, her own body doing the same. The water and lack of clothes caused a chill to go through their bodies. She wrapped her arm around Moira to bring her closer towards her own body heat. Moira had settled her head onto her chest with no further instruction. They stopped shivering soon after.

Angela trailed a hand down to Moira's back. Reaching the swell of her hips, she stopped. The skin under her fingers was soft and without any visible or raised scarring, a job well done by the nanites. Angela bit the inside of her cheek. Her thumb brushed across the invisible wound, over and over. She almost wished that their wounds scarred, that they left behind a reminder and warning to them both. Almost.

She took a sharp breath in surprise when Moira's cold nose suddenly pressed into her throat. When a tired kiss was pressed against the same spot in apology, she calmed. Moira's hair brushed against her jaw as Moira eased her body flush into the crook of Angela's side, legs tangled together.

They sunk into the mattress, the only sound in the silence was Angela's pulse beating steadily into Moira's ear, and in the back of her own mind. The light in their eyes began to fade until they were entirely consumed by shadow.

The quiet was interrupted by Angela, who had begun to hum a melody with words that have long been forgotten by time. With sluggish movement, Moira tapped her fingers against Angela in time to the beat. Neither wanted to break the moment.

Angela stopped her song and attempted to break it anyway with a whisper, "I love you."

Moira matched Angela's low volume, "I know."

"I'm sorry that I hurt you."

She placed a soft kiss against Angela's collarbone, "I know. Some things are beyond our control. Mistakes were made. All we can do is learn from them, dear one."

"Sometimes I wish we didn't have to fight each other," Angela couldn't help her sigh.

Moira scoffed, "Wishes are for those who want what they cannot have and for deals with the fae. And we both know I do not interact with anything on that list willingly."

"A little whimsy won't kill you, Liebling." Angela flicked her fingers against Moira's back.

A deep chuckle escaped into the room. "Perhaps not, but I've learned that trying to change things on this mortal realm, everything currently outside of our control, is almost always a recipe for disaster," Moira wrapped her arms tighter around Angela, "Besides, the fae might take you from me in exchange for a wish, and I, for one, am not tempting fate for mere whimsy."

Angela's laugh came about with no trouble now that her chest no longer felt like it was caving in. It echoed pleasantly throughout the room until it settled back around them in a blanket of relief.

The spell remained unbroken, even after their voices had risen to their regular volume, no longer burdened by past events. Their relief encompassed them in a soothing cocoon, shielding them from everything beyond their little room.

Angela looked down when she felt a firm tapping on her jaw. The tapping stopped when her gaze met Moira's. She smiled at her. Moira smiled back.

In a moment reminding her of better days, Moira noticed a change on Angela’s face. Angela's eyes had taken a sudden shine, as if the nanites had activated again, revealing mischief and promise.

She knew what was coming next, but Moira didn't fight the shift, simply smirking when she found herself on her back, staring up at Angela who now hovered over her. A fire reignited inside her when she noticed the devilish grin beaming down at her. She felt a hand caress the healed skin on her hip. It appeared that Angela wanted to take her turn in expressing her apologies.

Her nails remained sharp as she reached up to briefly cup Angela's cheek, moving further back to scratch at Angela's scalp, then wrap around the back of her neck to bring her closer until they were nose to nose. Their moment would stay, so she didn't bother to lower her voice, "I love you."

Angela's eyes traced Moira’s sharp features before meeting Moira’s eyes, who had begun to softly glow once again. The forgiveness in Moira’s face was open and unabashed. Angela pressed her forehead against Moira's, deliberately mirroring their pose from before, "I know."

"I'm still not coming after you if get taken by the fae for wishful thinking." Moira raised her other hand to entwine them together at the nape of Angela’s neck, holding Angela in place when she felt her pulling away.

Angela's grin hadn't disappeared, "I know."

They met again with a searing kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't fuck with the fae. Ever.
> 
> Had to increase the rating a tad because my brain was going crazy with this one, but I'm determined not to actually raise this into straight-up explicit territory since I want to keep this overall light-hearted with minor angst damnit. I'll save that rating for other things. For actually explicit smut and violence. :3
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	13. Better Living Through Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Due to an unconventional relationship, Angela and Moira's interns have taken it upon themselves to create an instruction manual on how to not become a lab rat. Or get fired.

_Congratulations! If you are possession of this document, then that means you are the newest intern to either Moira O’Deorain or Angela Ziegler. Alongside your original rules and regulations for the Science and/or Medical Wing (depending on if your supervisor is O’Deorain or Ziegler, respectively), it is best to know the contents of the Pact: O’Deorain-Ziegler (POZ) if you wish to have an efficient work environment with as little unneeded stress as possible._

_Intern [Insert Your Designation Here], as it is only your first day, familiarize yourself with the enclosed guidelines. O’Deorain and Ziegler have one of the longest working relationships in Overwatch and the longest in the research departments. You’ll soon find that their relationship is also rather unconventional, and as their new intern, you may find yourself in the middle of an argument or witness to an event with no information on how to proceed._

_The POZ will not only give you the guidance you need for these situations but will help you understand your place in the lab. The POZ is your friend, compiled from the observations of many fellow interns before you over the years, updated regularly with the most accurate information, and as someone with access to the POZ, it is your duty to not only abide by the guidelines but to enforce them among each other._

-

_Rule #1_

_Never Take a Side in an Argument_

_Dr. O’Deorain and Dr. Zeigler will have many arguments with varying importance and intensity. Your job as an intern is to never take a side. Never. You will suffer._

_In all seriousness, under no circumstances, are you to ever side with either O’Deorain or Zeigler in any of their bickering, regardless of who your supervisor is or any personal agreements or opinions you may have._

_Intern [Designation], the moment you take a side, you will never be free. You will always be dragged back into the argument. Learned from Intern 27, who had unfortunately sided with O’Deorain (their supervisor at the time) in what is now known as The Great Fight (Information for further details of The Great Fight will be provided for you at the end of the POZ), and was repeatedly brought back into any discussion even remotely resembling the incident in question, until Intern 27 eventually snapped and had to be let go. We will miss them terribly._

_We hope you do not befall the same fate._

-

“Moira!”   

Tom and Casey startled when the door was slammed open. Looking around for help, Chava was suddenly nowhere to be seen. His desk was empty, chair spinning in place from a hasty exit. They both hunched over in their seats, hoping that by some mercy, they would be able to escape unscathed and unnoticed. Unfortunately, the universe had other ideas as a furious Angela nearly bowled them over on her path to Moira.

Moira looked up from her microscope. Seeing only the white of a lab coat, she looked up to see Angela glaring down at her. Setting her stylus down on top of the holopad, she pushed away from the table and settled back against her chair.

“Hello, Angela.”

“Don’t ‘Hello, Angela’ me. I told you that my interns are off limits. Sergio is cleaning up your mess and the other two are calming everyone else’s interns down!”

They ducked further when Angela suddenly pointed in their direction.

“Why didn’t you use your own interns? That’s what they’re for! And even then, they’re not playthings for you to torment when you’re bored!”

With a lazy turn of her head, Moira began to stare at them in contemplation. They flinched and began to furiously scribble in their notes. The writing may or may not be legible…or even coherent. After what felt like hours, they could feel her scrutiny stop. They didn’t look up to verify if she had turned back or not.

“Because unlike the last ones, excluding Intern #1, these ones have grown on me like a very terrified and semi-competent fungus. If I keep these two around, then I won’t have to teach lab protocol to the new ones. It’s very tedious, Angela.”

With what seemed like a growl coming from Angela, Tom had sunken so low into his spot that he appeared to have melted in place, sinking any further would have landed him on the floor. Casey was occupying herself with trying to inch her chair towards the door without giving away that she wasn’t actually writing anything.

“I have one rule with my interns. What is it?” Angela leaned in until she was hovering over Moira.

“Stay away from your interns.”

Angela narrowed her eyes, “And what did you do?”

“I did the exact opposite and used your interns for a couple of tests instead of my own.” Moira grinned when she noticed that a faint twitch began to appear on Angela’s brow. Angela whirled around.

“You two!”

Tom and Casey whirled around in their seat to look at Angela. Angela did not look happy. Not one bit. Moira was still grinning behind her.

“Did you two know about this?”

They froze at the question, eyes going wide when they saw Moira’s eyes narrow at them. They swallowed, frantically looking between the two, unable to actually answer the question. As the silence stretched on, they stared in horror as Moira stood up, stretching to her full height, looming behind Angela. They nearly jumped out of their seats when they felt hands drop onto their shoulders.

Casey looked up to see Sergio standing behind her. His tone was as serious as his face, easily mistaken for stone. “We’re sorry to interrupt but we need these two to help clean up the mess.”

“The extra hands will certainly help.” Even with Chava’s equally sudden and welcome appearance, Tom couldn’t relax.

Angela seemed to deflate. After a beat, she pinched the bridge of her nose and waved off the interns. “Yes, of course. Make sure everything is under control. Come get me if you need anything.”

Sergio and Chava nodded. With the approval to leave, Tom and Casey let themselves be led out of the room. None of them looked back to see if they were being watched. Sergio and Chava only released their shoulders once the door to the lab had closed behind them.

“Did you answer?”  

“I’m sorry?” Tom blinked up at Sergio. He’d never actually been this close to him. He was even larger up close. Angela rarely let her interns near Moira’s lab, preventing them from crossing paths. They had only ever seen Angela’s interns at a distance.

Sergio stared ahead. His jaw tightened as he repeated the question, “Ziegler. Did you answer her question?”

“Oh! No. We didn’t. We kinda froze actually…” Casey’s shoulder’s dropped as her reply trailed off.

Chava stepped between them and Sergio.

“Well, that’s good! We don’t need to figure out damage control.” Chava was certainly more pleasant to deal with.

Sergio remained gruff, “They still froze. Like deer in headlights. They must learn Chava. One wrong answer will bring trouble. I don’t like trouble.”

“They’re new. They’ll get the hang of it!” Chava smiled at them both. “Mistakes are expected! We are people of science and science rarely runs smoothly,” Chava patted Sergio’s back, “You just need to lighten up.”

Sergio grunted. “I am a professional. I will not.”

“It’s alright. I’ll keep up the fun for all of us.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the bonding, but what still needs cleaning?”

Sergio and Chava turned to look at Casey.

Chava blinked, “Is it not obvious?”

Tom and Casey shook their heads.

“There is no mess. It’s already clean. We remembered you were alone with O’Deorain, knew Ziegler would come to your lab, and that you both would be caught in the middle. Decided to come and rescue you before hell broke loose,” Sergio said.

Tom breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh thank god.”

-

_Rule #2_

_Anything Resembling Fraternization is to be Ignored_

_O’Deorain and Ziegler have a very close working relationship. Very close. Occasionally, you may bear witness to just how close. They are usually very careful in maintaining a professional front in public. However, they are still technically human and as all humans do, fall prey to their emotions and whims. And sometimes, they act on them. Even then, they tend to stay aware of their surroundings for reasons that will soon be known to you._

_Should you perhaps stumble upon a situation, your instructions are simple and as follows:_

_Step 1: Wipe all traces of the moment from your memory. You saw nothing. You heard nothing. You are nothing._

_Step 2: Do not interrupt. If your situation can wait until later, skip to step 7._

_Step 3: If interruptions cannot be avoided, briefly walk away._

_Step 4: Return to the room but make sure to announce your presence before arrival. Cough loudly. Knock on the door. Walk louder. Anything._

_Step 5: Repeat Step 1 if necessary. Pretend everything is normal._

_Step 6: Relay any needed information._

_Step 7: Walk away._

_Step 8: Return later if needed._

_Step 9: Notify all other interns to not disturb. (All fellow intern contact information has been preloaded onto your assigned holopad.)_

_Bypass or adjust any steps as needed as the situation may vary. Use your best judgement. Any evidence of fraternization, no matter how innocent, is to be wiped._

_-_

It was late and Sergio hoped that Angela was still in her office. He had already shed his lab coat and was on his way to his quarters when he remembered that another of Angela’s interns was out sick, leaving him to bring any of their paperwork to her attention. And currently, he had a few forms that needed her signature by morning. And so, dutifully, he took a detour and went to get them signed as soon as possible.

He approached the door to her office, seeing that the light was still on and the card reader was green, he went ahead and opened the door.

As soon as it was open, he pivoted and walked back down the hall towards his quarters.  He turned on his holopad and sent out a message to his fellow interns. Once the warning to avoid Angela’s office had been acknowledged, he began to wipe all traces of the encounter from his mind. A reminder to not touch Angela’s desk until he was positive it had been sanitized cemented itself in his thoughts. He did not know where Moira’s hand had disappeared to inside Angela’s coat, nor did he want to.

The signatures could wait.

-

_Rule #3_

_Deny Everything Outside of the Lab_

_As time goes on and your stay here becomes more permanent, you will inevitably be approached by not only those in the Science and Medical Wings but from those outside our wings. Field agents, engineers, mechanics, and the like. They will have questions. They’ve always had questions. You will keep your silence about the work we do according to the NDAs you have signed. However, those NDAs do not account for O’Deorain and Ziegler’s “working relationship”._

_Your job is as follows: any questions, accusations, or suspicions about O’Deorain and Ziegler’s relationship is to be kept absolutely confidential. Not only will O’Deorain and Ziegler respect your ability to keep things private, they will reciprocate so long as nothing personal or professional is in violation of conduct._

_Nothing is to be discussed or mentioned, even to your fellow interns. To your fellow interns, you may allude but never express anything aloud or directly. We’re nosy and curious too but we also respect our superiors and will treat them accordingly._

_Only mention a situation if it becomes important information for us, the interns, or a direct threat towards O’Deorain and/or Ziegler. We will not tolerate any abuse of information, including, but not limited to: blackmail, extortion, or gossip._

_We will know. As will O’Deorain and Ziegler. They are less forgiving than we are._

_Do not think you can outsmart them. You are not, and never will be, as clever as they are._

_(To be quite honest, we’re 99.27% sure that they are aware of this document’s existence. They haven’t said anything. Don’t bring it up just in case.)_

-

It was a good day.

Chava had no damage control to worry about, Angela and Moira were working together peacefully, Tom and Casey were settling in just fine, and he even got to spend some alone time with Sergio. Sure, that alone time was just sitting on opposite ends of the break room after Sergio apologized for accidentally bumping into him, but he’d take his victories where he could get them.

Now the only thing that can make his day even better was if he could successfully get these other interns to leave him alone. They weren’t Moira’s or Angela’s interns. In fact, he wasn’t even sure whose interns they were. Maybe they were Winston’s. He stopped caring when they started with their questions.

He sipped at his mug as he stared down the two sitting in from of him: one blonde, one bald, botb out of their lab coats, both waiting for him to answer their questions.

“I don’t know anything.”

They looked almost disappointed but not deterred.

Blonde perked up, “Really? Because last we heard, you’re the one who’s been with O’Deorain the longest. You must’ve seen or heard things.”

Chava scoffed. Oh, they’re not wrong. He certainly has. He’s seen and deliberately forgotten many things. But he made an agreement, and he does not want to find out what will happen to him if he breaks the POZ. Intern 27 is the only one that witnessed such a violation, but was before his time.

“I’m the longest tenant to her lab because I keep things strictly professional.” He took another drink. “And have you met O’Deorain? You think that we hold hands and tell each other secrets because she hasn’t set me on fire yet? Please.” His coffee was starting to get cold. Shame.

“Votrov won’t give us anything either,” Bald said. Chava made a note to check in with Sergio about their interrogations. For future reference, obviously. Not at all to spend time together.

“Because we are professionals and there is no room for our personal lives in the lab.” He smiled when Blonde leaned in towards him.

“We’re all friends here. We’ll trade dirt on our boss if you want.”

“The only way to get dirt is to agree to O’Deorain’s subject trials. Last I checked, she’s working on some experiment involving necrosis and cell decomposition,” he stood up to dump out the remnant of his coffee into the sink. Break room coffee was only tolerate when it was so hot that he couldn’t taste anything past the burning of his tongue. “She’ll be thrilled to have test subjects. Might even compensate you with gossip. I could recommend you.”

He rinsed out his mug and paid no mind to the quickly fading footsteps behind him. By the time he turned around, he found himself alone.

Yeah, today was a good day.

-

_Remember the guidelines and your stay with us will be a significantly more pleasant one. Any other situations that arise that do not fit directly with the given guidelines, continue to addendums 1A through 4C. If you continue to have questions regarding the POZ, O’Deorain, Ziegler, or your role with us, please direct any questions to O’Deorain’s head Intern, Intern One AKA Chava Ramirez or Ziegler’s head Intern, Sergio Votrov._

-

“Is that the new POZ?”

Moira looked up from her desk to see Angela walking into her office. Angela moved towards her until Angela was leaning over her shoulder to look at the screen.

“It is,” She scrolled back up to the beginning of the document, “I’ve marked the updated sections. It appears that the interns have become better at data collection.”

Angela scanned the marked areas of the document. “Appears so. Looks like Intern 27 is still mentioned.”

“I miss them.”

“No, you don’t,” Angela said. She lowered her head until she could rest her chin on Moira’s shoulder, “you miss tormenting them until they almost cried. You can’t keep harassing your interns like that. Even if they agreed with you.”

“Are you still envious that they chose me over you?”

“Never.”

Moira suddenly felt a warm hand run through her hair until she started to see strands of red fall into her sight. Her grunt of disapproval went ignored. How rude.

-

_We look forward to working with you, assuming you actually stay and don’t run when O’Deorain deems you a lab rat at best._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news, Everyone! I'm not dead or have forgotten about this compilation! As it so happens, school, leaving a job, unemployment, getting a job, personal drama, no sense of time, and a forgetful brain means that I accidentally left the series on hold for longer than anticipated. M'bad. But now that most of that is settled, I can come back to this on a more regular basis. 
> 
> Because I love interns (I've been watching bones and scrubs a lot lately) and throwing interns under buses, I did start typing up the POZ almost immediately after I mentioned it in whatever chapter ago. It was supposed to get a brief mention every now and again but it turned into a full blown thing and that amuses me. We'll probably see the interns every now and again but nothing huge I don't think. We'll see what happens.
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	14. Fall Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela spends a little time with some important people.

“Hallo, Papa. Hallo, Mama.”

Angela crossed her legs and took a seat in front of the headstone, the other stones spread out around her were of no personal importance. The names of her mother and father waited for her on this particular one. With the ease of constant practice, the marigold in her hand found a spot on top of the headstone, resting where countless others like it had before.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t visited in a long time. Overwatch offered me a position in their Medical Division.”

She stretched her arms until they rested behind her, propping her up. The grass was as soft as ever. She breathed in, letting the warm air settle deep in her lungs. It was a nice day.

“I accepted their offer and have been busier than ever. Between settling in, my research, and my field agent training, it’s been tiring. It is nice though. It’s new and everything is state of the art. Their funding is incredible. I didn’t think I’d ever get quite the opportunity.”

Her fingers played with the grass. She looked up and watched the clouds pass by overhead. She sat in easy silence. Her words dropped to a near whisper.

“Torbjörn keeps telling me that I’ll do fine. Great even. But the hospital isn’t the same as actual fieldwork. Reinhardt says that he’ll protect me while I work,” Angela shook her head, “but he also has a tendency to protect people with his own body, so I’ll probably be patching him up too. Then he’ll start some tall tale about it.” Angela chuckled, hearing Reinhardt’s booming voice echo through Torbjörn’s home, recalling some adventure that only gets more intricate with each telling. Torbjörn had exceeded all expectation in assisting her in her goals. From her parents’ death until now, the Lindholm’s were always a constant and welcomed presence.

Reinhardt was just a welcome addition.

“I also met one of my coworkers. Dr. O’Deorain walked in while Reinhardt was boasting…,” she trailed off, thinking back on that day. From what she was told, Dr. O’Deorain was absolutely dedicated to her work. If she had friends or family, no one knew, and everyone was too afraid to ask. She did cut an imposing figure. “She said to ignore anything he says and to focus on my work and let it speak for itself.”

Glancing at the darkening sky, then her watch, she stood up, then brushed the grass and dirt off of her pants. After adjusting the flower on the stone, she ran the tips of her fingers against the cool, smooth surface with a familiar longing traveling through her. Pulling her hand back, she turned to leave.

“Tschüss.”

-

“Hallo, Papa. Mama.”

A marigold sat on the stone. Angela stood before it. The soft patter of rain was near-hypnotic as it thrummed against her umbrella. She watched as bits of the stone turned dark when touched by the water, leaving the golden petals in stark contrast. She breathed in the clean air with a smile.

“Overwatch is treating me well. We don’t always see eye to eye when it comes to Overwatch’s methods but I’ve still risen the ranks faster than I ever thought,” she recalled the frustration after being tied up with red tape over every little thing, “It’s good work. Everyone is very kind to me until I have to patch them up and put them on bedrest. Who knew hardened soldiers threw such tantrums?” She giggled to herself recalling the glaring match between her and an injured Jack. Much to his dismay, and refusal to admit that she won, he eventually slunk back onto his cot in the infirmary. Again.

She chuckled to herself when she remembered another certain agent in training. “I’m becoming good friends with other agents that aren’t just Torbjörn and Reinhardt. Lena is lovely. She’s a pilot and almost as boisterous as Reinhardt, always ready for just about anything. She’s quickly becoming a loyal friend.”

Angela quieted. Her silence let her uncertainty hang in the air. She twirled the handle of the umbrella in her hand. The droplets of water fell in gentle arches around her.

“There’s also someone else,” she pursed her lips, “Dr. O’Deorain and I had an interesting moment some time ago and she’s becoming something to me, but I’m not exactly sure what. She’s reserved and focused. She’s opening up to me ever since our breakthrough and while she hasn’t told me her life story exactly, she doesn’t immediately shut me out like she does most everybody else.”

She stopped spinning the umbrella when the rain began to fall heavier.  

“I don’t know what to think. She has this strange, almost selfish and greedy, warmth that she keeps close to her chest. It’s almost nonexistent but I think she wants to share it with me.” She felt giddy thinking about the possibilities, “Moira is becoming more enthusiastic about her work. She’s starting to regularly share her results and methods with me. She has every reason to be excited. Despite some of my reservations, it’s amazing work. Absolutely brilliant. And she still wants to assist me in my own research, regardless of regulations or time.”

Angela paused to look at the rapidly darkening clouds. They were a light grey before, but now, they were starting to turn almost coal black. She wasn’t sure if she had heard thunder in the distance. She looked back at the stone, “My time looks like it’s going to be cut a bit short but I’m starting to think that I might like what Moira and I could become. I think we could make a great team. One I think we both need.”

Angela stepped back from the stone and adjusted the flower. “I’ll come by another time. Possibly when there’s a bit less rain.”

She turned to leave.

“Tschüss.”

-

“Hallo.”

Angela ran her fingers across the soft petals of the marigold in her hand. A breeze ruffled her hair, free of any of its usual restraints. The ends of her hair brushed against her cheeks.

“Overwatch is no more.”

Her shoulders slumped as she recalled the Petras Act, shuddered when she remembered the vicious attack on the Swiss Base. The blood, violence, and ensuing mission to Italy and backlash still makes her quietly seethe. Now, there was a conflict for the ages.

“I can’t say that I’m surprised. They’ve been crumbling from the inside. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Jack turning a blind eye to Gabriel’s movements. Lena being lost to time. The Widowmaker fiasco. It was only a matter of time until everyone’s secrets and lies caught up with them.”

“Everyone had begun to go rogue in some form or another.  Unsanctioned missions, targets, and secrets became more and more common. I kept getting pulled in between the arguments and accusations, and I just…I couldn’t anymore. Overwatch had become an empty symbol. Jack stood in the sidelines when we needed him to take action. Gabriel took action when we needed him to stay in the shadows. No one was where they were supposed to be.”

“Even though I haven’t been a part of Overwatch for a few years now, I’m still a little disappointed that Overwatch is over. I still believe in their goals. To do good and protect. I hoped that they were still capable of maintaining their mission,” Angela ran her fingers through her hair, “But I guess that was asking a bit too much. Too many hard heads butting with the government until Overwatch had become near unrecognizable.”

“I’d be lying if I said I was blameless in all of this. Even I was in one place when I was needed in another. Jack also wasn’t the only one who turned a blind eye to unsanctioned and illegal activity. I allowed Moira to hide her experiments behind mine. No one looked too deeply into Mercy’s work. I turned a blind eye and had become an accomplice in many ethical rules being broken, ignored, and abused…and yet…I never revealed anything that could stop her. She had become something to me that I was not going to give up, even if it meant lying to the UN, testifying against Overwatch to keep ourselves free of blame. I lied in Overwatch, I’m lying in Oasis, and I’ll continue to lie in the future until the times comes where I no longer have to.”

Despite the nanites circulating throughout her system, the shadows under her eyes gave way to her weariness. The situation was more taxing than she had anticipated despite knowing what was going to happen. The investigation had been long and brutal. The UN’s interrogations wanted information, some she knew, some she didn’t. They still continued their questions. She regretted how Jack and Gabriel’s relationship had dissolved and come under such scrutiny, but there wasn’t much she could do after Jack was promoted. Getting caught in the crossfire between what were two friends in very different authority levels caused too much conflict.

She was lucky that her and Moira’s relationship never included answering to each other in any official capacity. She didn’t know what would have become of their relationship if they had to suffer the toll of being one another’s direct superior.

However, what’s done is done, she had said her piece, maintained secrecy of her residency in Oasis, and Moira’s long affiliations with Talon and the Oasis Ministry.

She reached out to place the flower on top of the stone then turned and began the trek back out of the cemetery. Despite maintaining a lie for years, Angela couldn’t seem to regret any of it. Her voice traveled light with the breeze.

“Tschüss.”

-

Angela stared at the lone flower atop the stone, its stem broken and crushed. Her mind was tumultuous with thought, a storm of emotion coursing through her. Her fists were clenched, the knuckled turning white. She didn’t look at the names or dates on the stone. They held no answers.

“Overwatch is calling me back,” she took a deep breath, “I don’t want to return but I think I need to. Winston is right. Our world is changing and not necessarily for the better. We’re on the brink of another war and even if I remain neutral as I’ve stayed for the better part of a decade now, I’ll eventually need to pick a side, and it has already been chosen. It all comes down to whether or not I answer the call.”

“I don’t know if Overwatch should be recalled. The Petras Act is still in effect so any involvement would immediately put a bounty on my head, regardless of any goodwill I may have. I’d be heavily restricted in what I could do. I would need to have Moira increase the security to our home as well as update the dogs’ training criteria. If we slip up even once, I won’t be able to claim that I was simply at the location for a goodwill mission. The Valkyrie suit has become too recognizable to be used for stealth. Even with any mission being technically unsanctioned, leaving my parameters and red tape near nonexistent, what’s stopping Overwatch from imploding again? More direct involvement could still be a terrible idea under Overwatch’s guidance.”

She swallowed hard and brought her arms up against her chest. She hugged her arms close when she released a shuddering breath. She couldn’t help anyone if she was locked up in prison. She might be granted leniency on her merits alone but it wouldn’t be enough. Petras made it clear that there would be no sanctuary.

“Accepting the recall won’t affect just me either. It will affect Moira as well. She’s gone off and gotten herself involved with Talon. She has no bureaucracy to contend with and all the funding and materials she could ever want. Coupled with her position in Oasis, she’s near untouchable by law. If I agree to rejoin Overwatch, I’ll be placed directly against her instead of alongside her, like we’ve been doing for decades now,” her fingers digging into her biceps was near painful. “I don’t want to fight against her like they’ll expect me to. I don’t know what I’ll do if we actually hurt each other. We’ve been partners for so long, I can hardly imagine being enemies.”

Her throat lodged as she thought about the prospect of being turned against Moira. It would make things infinitely more difficult. She was not afraid of going against her but afraid of what would happen if she can’t avoid a confrontation. Even with their nanites keeping them in top form, the bots can only do so much. Even she can’t resurrect someone if they’ve been gone for too long.

“Moira told me that I needed to do what felt right and in accordance to my goals, then work out the consequences later. This is my decision and dilemma and the final choice is no one else’s but my own. Sometimes, she reminds me that we’re old enough to be wise.”

Lost in the possible outcomes of her choices, Angela stood in silence in front of the stone. Eventually, her grip on her arms lessened until her arms dropped to her sides. Everything stood still as the air waited for her to come to a decision with an easy patience that Angela hoped to one day master.

“I know what I’m going to do.”

Her steps away from her parents were resolute.

-

Moira stepped past the familiar gates. Having never stepped past the boundary before, her steps slowed, almost in hesitation. She had previously used the ‘No Dogs’ sign as her reason to stay behind but with Mistral’s claws clicking against the stone path, she found that the sign was merely an excuse. She buried her hands in the pockets of her coat, let the handle of Mistral’s leash loop around her wrist, and continued on.

“You know we don’t belong here, don’t you?” Mistral sniffed the air around them but refrained from whining. “It’s best if you stay quiet unless it’s important. I’d rather not cause any trouble today. We are better off without interruption.” She received a low woof in response.

Mistral fell into step next to her when Moira turned left onto the grass. Moira had a destination, and so Mistral would follow obediently. Moira walked past the rows of stones and memorials with Mistral keeping pace. They both stopped when they reached a particular spot. Moira stood for a moment and stared at the stone once Mistral had sat at her side.

Angela had failed to mention how simple the headstone was. It was a standard, grey, upright rectangle, with no decoration or accessories. Her eyes traced the simple, carved lines of the letters and numbers. It was good craftsmanship.

She opened her trench coat, the hem brushing against her legs and against Mistral’s leash, then pulled out a marigold from an inner pocket. She released the coat and let it fall closed to stave off the chill. Turning the marigold in her fingers, a scrutinizing gaze scanned the flower and stem for any imperfections. Satisfied that the flower was still immaculate, she bent down and laid the it across the bottom of the headstone.

Instead of straightening, she crouched until she just about matched Mistral in height, if not a bit taller. The bottom of her coat settled onto the grass around her. She rested her arms against the top of her thighs and loosely interlocked her fingers.

“Guten Tag. Herr Ziegler,” she nodded at the name on the left, “Frau Ziegler,” then the name on the right. “Angela may or may not have spoken of me so I’m unsure of how much you know. However, since we have never formally met, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Moira O’Deorain and I am here to inform you that I have recently married your daughter. Angela Ziegler is now legally my wife.”

Mistral perked her ears at hearing the familiar names but stayed in place. She lied down and wagged her tail. She liked Angela Ziegler. And Moira O’Deorain. They gave her cookies. Sometimes Moira O’Deorain gave her more cookies than she gave Pavel. Pavel can cry to his mom about it.

“Overwatch has sent Angela to Southeast Asia for a mission so I’m afraid you’ll both be speaking with just me this evening,” she thought about how it should be Angela here to relay the news instead of her but the sudden trip across the globe decided otherwise, “The exact specifics of her mission were not relayed to me. All the better. The less I know, the less leverage anyone can use against her if they get to me.” Even with knowing so little, she would uphold Angela’s tradition with her parents.

“What I do know is that she has Pavel with her this time. Even if her teammates don’t do their job and fail the objective, Pavel won’t. He will protect her for us.” Moira rubbed her thumb against the side of her opposite hand. Pavel has never failed in his vigilance and she trusts that he will continue to be successful in his duty.

“Our decision to join has been a long time coming if I’m being quite honest. We’ve slept in the same bed together for years. Technically lived under the same roof for even longer. Even had children together if you count Mistral, Pavel, or even the interns.” Mistral’s tail sped up when she heard Moira’s quiet chuckle.

“Even so, despite being together for so long, an engagement or marriage had never crossed our minds as a viable option. We had considered completing the paperwork but with certain…acquaintances that I know, it was not ideal.” She scowled at the thought of Sombra.  

Leaving a trail, especially an electronic one, was not the smartest of plans. She didn’t know what Sombra was up to or who she was hunting, but she preferred to be left out of it. Sombra may be an obnoxious menace, but she was a dangerous threat who knew too much.

“Angela may or may not have mentioned it but we are on opposite sides of a war. After the recall, we have faced each other on the field more than once. I have no personal stake in the goals of my side while Angela felt the need to help her own side out of some sense of obligation or charity.” Moira sighed. “Always the martyr, that one.”

“When Angela’s communicator played Winston’s message, she didn’t know what to do. It was one of the few times she was at a loss. She came to speak with you before making a decision on whether or not to return. I waited outside by the entrance.”

It wasn’t unusual that Moira would accompany Angela on her occasional visits to the graveyard but she always waited by the entrance, leaving Angela to her privacy.

“After she was done, she took Pavel and had a certain fierceness about her that I rarely see in her. She has always been driven and focused, but there was something different about her that day. That was the moment that I knew that I had become a sentimental fool. I asked her to marry me that night as soon as we arrived home. It seemed that I was not the only fool. She said yes to my request. Our engagement lasted until morning, and the next day, we left to the nearest courthouse in Oasis to legally bind ourselves together. Seeing as I was a Minister myself, the processing and encryption of the documents were expedited. We were officially married by the end of the week then continued on as normal.”

It was a strange time. She had been leaning against the stone wall, a lit cigarette between her lips, turning over the half-empty pack of them in her hand. Mistral and Pavel’s leashes held loose around her wrist, hand buried in the pocket of her pants. Mistral remained obedient but relaxed, sitting in front of her. Pavel sat facing the gate, still as a statue—ever watchful and patient, waiting for his charge to return.

Angela had been gone for longer than usual but Moira was not concerned. Angela would come to a decision. It takes as long as it takes—no more, no less. And once Angela is ready, Moira will be waiting at the gate.

What left Moira nearly stunned, however, was the absolute conviction on Angela’s face upon her return. She wasn’t sure if Angela had noticed her staring but she couldn’t look away from the steel in those blue eyes. Without a word, she handed Pavel’s leash over and fell into step beside her. Angela’s steps were quick and strong, and Moira knew what choice Angela had made. And based on the singular thought growing louder in her brain, Moira knew that she was going to propose a fundamental change to their relationship later that evening.

“Why add any fanfare? We may have been missing the title but we were as good as tied already. A small correction in technicalities now, I suppose. Though, I do believe her friends might just have an aneurysm if they ever found out.”

Moira stood up and let her hands go back into her coat pockets. Mistral sat up. She looked up at Moira, tilting her head at the growing silence. Her tail slowed to a stop. She waited.

“There’s no need for concern,” her lips turned up into the beginnings of a fond smile, “When she inevitably keels over after running herself ragged, I’ll catch her, then bring her home so she can rest before going out and exhausting herself again.”

Mistral scrambled to her feet when Moira turned and began to walk away. Moira felt herself lean forward when a gust of wind suddenly pressed against her back. She flipped her collar up and chuckled.

“Ah, excuse my terrible manners. Auf Wiedersehen.”

The wind stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Marry me.” 
> 
> “Ok.” 
> 
> “Grand.” 
> 
> And then Sombra had a hell of a time chasing a non-electronic paper trail. She swears she’s getting close to unraveling this dirty little secret. Angela's ghost parents are just excited that Angela brought a girl.
> 
> So, I have an aunt, who for years, was together with her husband. She meets this guy, they hit it off, and they became a package deal. He chases after her with damage control when she gets some crazy idea for shenanigans, had kids together, live together, have a dog, etc. We all legit thought they were married. Even they legit thought they were married. Until one day, they were filling out paperwork and realized they couldn’t find their marriage certificate. Because there wasn’t one. They never actually got married. And it somehow just slipped everyone’s minds. So they quickly eloped with a shotgun wedding to the nearest courthouse and returned later with a marriage announcement. We were all shook.
> 
> And for some reason, seeing Moira and Mercy in a similar relationship just felt right to me lol. I also have another aunt who threw a knife at her husband. It embedded in the wall by his head. This also feels right to me lol.
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	15. Describing Your Work Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After certain things come to light, they learn that sometimes, colors clash.

_"…Subjects in Group B experienced significantly higher levels of distress when exposed to the toxin as opposed to Group C. Group B initially began to show signs of hysteria, ultimately escalating into aggression and violence. Notably, Subjects B1 and B6 had engaged in a physical altercation resulting in the fatality of B6 [Figure 5]. The visible recorded injuries include…”_

“Ach du lieber Gott…” Angela stared in horror at a grisly photograph of Subject B6.

_Fatality._

She didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was right in front of her. Numbers, notes, and charts with information illicitly gained. Chemicals not available to Overwatch.

_Toxins._

A frightening lack of official documentation. So many tests performed without sanction. So many trials and test subjects. Results that made it feel as if there was a stone sinking into her stomach.

_Hysteria._

Everything lay buried in the deepest corners of the hidden server. The servers where she herself had recently been given access to better use Overwatch’s full resources for her nanobiotic research and designated tasks. What wasn’t on the computers sat in paper folders, deep within the archives room. Sections had been missing and only came together when she looked at both the electronic and physical documents. And even then, the records remained incomplete, either through improper documentation or pieces missing altogether.

She had been searching through Blackwatch’s research and medical files for further information to further supplement a current and rather clandestine project. While she knew that Blackwatch existed and that their ethics were grey at best and illegal at worst, she hadn’t anticipated seeing Moira’s name attached to various human trials and experiments. Some sanctioned and ordered, others done at leisure, greatly violating every code and oath that Angela had decided to carry on her shoulders.

She had thought that Moira had carried the same burden and responsibility. However, all the data painted a clear picture in proving her wrong.

Her mind raced with the memories of their time together. The long days spent buried in paperwork and cellular reconstruction, nights spent learning about each other’s most intimate habits, all blending together until they had become a roaring static, blocking out all other thought and sound. With the most recent log catching her eye, her heart leaped to her throat as the results of the experiments became more and more clear.

_“Animal Trials continue to show promising results. As it were, the nanobots have successfully maneuvered the cellular structure of the specimens into reconstructing the structure into a near gaseous form, no longer showing stress to the cardiovascular system, parietal lobe, and cerebellum as opposed to early trials that were resulting in permanent damage to the brain and physical body of the subjects._

_Due to the limitations of altering an organic and living organism’s state of matter into another, the specimens performing successful transformation have exhibited side effects including, but not limited to: a dark and near viscous smoke, scarification of tissue, increased keratin growth, and minor cosmetic alterations (e.g. red irises). Human trials will soon be underway. The nanobots are being primed with the genetic code of the test subject. Further time is required to be certain that the coding has been accepted before injection can begin.”_

Angela’s stomach churned as her eyes filled with tears before she buried her face in her hands.

-

Moira took a swig of her mug, letting the warm, bitter liquid assist in keeping her awake. Paperwork was always terribly dull. The newest batch of interns didn’t look especially bright (but only time would tell), so she had to make sure all her paperwork was in order before they inevitably made a mess of it. Her work was immaculate with no errors to be found, but she always found it best to be sure. One never knew if something had gone wrong outside of their supervision. It was supposed to be a quiet night, until Angela had stormed in.

Moira set her pen down and looked up. Her brow furrowed when she noticed that Angela was more furious that she had ever seen. Her hair was thrown in a haphazard ponytail, her coat askew, and wild eyes that seemed to shine with an unnatural glow. Her knuckles were turning white from the crushing grip she had on a manila folder. It was bending under the strain.

It wasn’t unusual that Angela would storm in to snark or yell at her about something she did, but it never lasted long or was ever anywhere near this intensity. Whatever had set off Angela’s temper tonight was obviously more serious that yesterday’s outburst, or the day before’s, or the one before that…she really needs to stop provoking Angela.

“What appears to be the problem?”

Angela’s lips curled into a grimace, “You.”

Moira blinked at the hoarse snarl. Now there was a sound she had never heard. She couldn’t help but straighten in her chair, even if only by just a fraction, “How so?” she raised a brow, “I don’t believe that I have done anything of note recently, especially in relation to you.”

Angela simply tossed the folder on her desk. It didn’t quite scatter, but it opened enough that that documents inside threatened to fall out, knocking the papers that she was working on prior to flutter in place.

She resisted the urge to adjust her paperwork and instead opened the folder to inspect the contents. Whatever was inside was obviously the source of Angela’s ire.

She almost wished she didn’t recognize the contents. Almost. But just to be sure, she scanned them again. And just like checking her paperwork for errors, she was correct in her initial assumptions.

“How did you get these?” She needed an answer of her own. If Blackwatch was breached, there were certain protocols she would need to follow. Wiping and destroying the files was one such protocol. Others were nowhere near as simple or as pleasant.

Angela’s fury turned cold. She must have asked the wrong question or said the wrong thing. Or perhaps it was the lack of tact? She had gotten better at being ‘tactful’ around Angela, but perhaps she still fell short.

"Since it appears to be important to you, I was recently granted access to assist in a project for Blackwatch,” Angela remained cold and curt.

Well, wasn’t that interesting? She could have sworn she was involved in all medical or research projects to some degree. Gabriel would have informed her of any staff changes. Unless there was a new project, she wondered why Angela would be involved. Jesse had yet to lose any limbs or suffer from lung damage, so the oaf didn’t need any assistance beyond standard medical inspections. Gabriel currently remained under her direct supervision, and hers alone. She had heard rumors of a possible new squad mate, but there were no confirmations, so she had shelved the rumors until she had more concrete information. And now, Angela was somehow involved.

It made her protocols much simpler, she supposed. Moving against Angela would not be ideal in the slightest for a variety of reasons, both professional and personal.

“It must be quite the project for Gabriel to involve you. Quite the secret if I have yet to hear anything.” Angela’s eyes pierced into her. “What did they offer you? I doubt you would join and assist Blackwatch so closely of your own volition. I have not been informed of any staff changes, so this must be temporary.”

“What our deal is is irrelevant, Moira. What do they offer you in return so that you can do all of these?” Angela nearly jabbed her finger atop the open folder, but as if repelled, she stopped right before making contact. “How much of this does Blackwatch know about? Overwatch? How many of these are unsanctioned?”

So that’s what this was about. Angela’s righteousness.

“What my superiors do or do not know does not change whether my personal projects are sanctioned or not,” Moira scowled to mirror Angela.

“These are all unethical!” Angela stepped forward until she was nearly pressed against the front of her desk. She bent over and nearly slammed her hands down onto the surface. She might as well have with how solid the contact with her desk was. “You can’t keep doing this!”

Moira rose out of her chair, “And why not?” She slowly lowered her hands onto her desk to continue mirroring Angela until their gazes were level. “Because you told me not to? Because you believe it to be _wrong?_ ”

“Being wrong should be reason enough! You’re testing without a board! You’re injecting toxins and taking DNA and not a single individual could fully and knowingly consent to the trials!”

Moira wanted to not be upset at Angela’s scolding, but as she brought her face closer until she was nose to nose with Angela, the low growl in her voice betrayed her, “And who are you to judge me? You accepted Blackwatch’s invitation. You agreed to their terms. You agreed to render your services. Everyone can be bought, even you,” she couldn’t bring herself to feel any victorious satisfaction when Angela’s gaze wavered. “To throw away your staunch morals and ideals, even for a single project, you must have a hefty price.”

Moira pulled back. Angela didn’t move, but she could see Angela’s eyes tracking her movements. She stood and slowly stepped around her desk until she was directly behind her.

“Tell me, Angela,” her voice seemed louder than usual despite dropping it to a near whisper. “What was your price?”

Angela remained silent. She didn’t move as Moira pressed herself against Angela’s back. Her hands rested atop Angela’s, pressing them into the desk in a loose grip. She lowered her head until she could speak directly into her ear. Angela’s scowl remained while her own curled into a facsimile of a grin.

“Was it funding? Does Dr. Ziegler want money for a personal project? Or perhaps it was for authority,” she felt Angela’s hands tense and shake under her own. “Tired of everyone ordering you around like the good little soldier you are.” Angela shivered when she pulled back. “Except, you have money and you’re not afraid to speak against Morrison and Reyes when it suits you. Not quite the obedient soldier you appear to be, hm? So, it must be something more valuable. Something you’ve always wanted.”

Angela whirled around, “That’s none of your business. You can’t ask me about my projects when your own are being questioned!” She didn’t like how Moira no longer grinned.

“And why not? Because for once, _your_ morals are the ones being scrutinized and doubted? That you are now facing the fact that you’re not as ethically bound as you thought you were? That you, above all others, can also succumb to greed and selfishness? What makes you different, Angela?”

Angela’s eyes flashed brightly, betraying the levels of self-experimentation. Moira’s shone in response, but not nearly as bright. Hers shone with a soft glow compared to Angela’s electric flash.

Moira stood firm when Angela closed the space between them, hands shooting out to grip at the collar of her shirt. However, she allowed herself to be pulled until they were a hair’s breadth apart. Under different circumstances, she could appreciate how close they were. The warmth made things all the more exciting as they stared at each other.

Moira cocked an eyebrow when Angela hissed at her, “The difference,” she shifted in place when the grip on her shirt had become tight and uncomfortable, “is that I’m not a monster,” Moira narrowed her eyes, “I actually care about my patients and their wellbeing. I care about my test subjects and trust in their ability to consent to my trials. I do this because I want to make sure that no one must suffer more than they need to in this idiotic war we’ve put ourselves in. I don’t put them through needless harm to sate my own curiosity and ambition! I do this so no one else must die!”

Moira reached up to grasp at Angela’s hands. She rather liked this shirt, and she wasn’t about to ruin it over Angela’s increasing fury. Angela’s grip was unyielding.

As their anger became more prominent and focused, Moira now understood what Blackwatch was willing to pay. Angela’s price wasn’t as high as she believed it was.

“Reyes is sanctioning your work on resurrection. Human trials have been approved.”

With how close they were, she felt more than saw how Angela froze. She took the opportunity to free herself. Long fingers pried Angela’s rigid fists from her shirt. It was easier with Angela no longer struggling. She held them tight to further prevent Angela from retaliating against her.

“Was that really all it was? Approval so you could go ahead and play god?” Moira sneered as Angela’s blue held her own. “And if I know anything about Overwatch’s more lenient sister, Blackwatch needs you to implement it as soon as possible for a new project of theirs. They had plenty of opportunity to assist you, but unless they required your brand of intellect, they would not have bothered. They need you to keep someone alive and bring them back if they die, don’t they?”

Angela broke their gaze and redirected it downwards with a bow of her head.

“You truly are no better than the rest of us. Your price only proves that you will just as easily abandon your beliefs to get what you want if you are offered the correct motivation. You are no better than I, and in fact, perhaps it makes us one and the same,” Angela stayed silent, eyes glossed over as she looked at nothing.

“You are ethical, but not moral. You cannot condemn me for doing unsanctioned work that violates _ethics_ , when you are doing the equivalent of abusing technicalities to bypass those same ethics that I ignore. Resurrecting the dead is no more morally correct than my own experiments. It does not make you good. It makes you a hypocrite.”

Her grip slackened when she felt weak tugging. Once free, Angela’s hands dropped to her side, hanging limply. They made no move to separate. Moira waited until Angela could give her a response. Minutes passed before Angela spoke up.

“…maybe we’re as similar as you say,” Moira tilted her head at Angela’s agreement. Despite its wavering hesitation and low volume, it still felt resolute. “Being greedy and taking what I want when it’s offered to me. Maybe I always only ever cared about my own projects, or maybe you were a better teacher at looking out for one’s self than you ever claimed to be. It looks as if neither of us can properly care about anyone except ourselves, but being unable to regret hurting others for a personal gain appears to be more useful than I anticipated…”

Moira felt something begin to settle in her stomach. In the silence, she waited for Angela to continue. She forced herself to be still when unfamiliar anxieties seeped into her being. In doing so, she felt a sudden need for Angela to look back up at her instead of staring at the floor. Tendrils of dread began to spread from whatever had settled in her gut, traveling upwards until it lodged in her throat. Angela needed to look up at her. Right now, and of her own free will. The tension was quickly becoming unbearable.

She did not interrupt.

“I accepted the terms and must face the consequences. For all our sakes, I will need to make the most out of this opportunity and succeed. But to be better than everything I saw in those files, I can’t be the same as you.”

The finality felt like a slap to the face for them both.

“Were you ever going to tell me about your experiments?”

Her question was met with more silence.

Moira watched Angela turn to face her desk. She collected the files, then tucked them into the folder. Her head was no longer bowed, instead held high, but she still held a tense and clenched jaw. The folder began to bend around Angela’s fingers. When she started to walk away, Moira made no move to stop her. She could only observe.

Angela paused at the doorway when the barest of words reached her ears. She pondered the question for a moment, murmured her response, just loud enough that it would be heard, then stepped out. The door closed behind her with no resistance.

_"What will happen to us?”_

She screwed her eyes shut when she heard the muffled sounds of things crashing and clattering to the ground. Choking back a sob, she kept walking away until things became silent again. Eventually, she reached her office.

Once inside, she leaned back against the wall and clenched the folder to her chest. Sinking to the floor, Angela finally let her tears fall.

-

Moira was hunched over her desk, her hands spread out on the now bare surface. Papers, stationary, and various odds and ends lay amidst shattered ceramic and broken pieces of technology. She stood in the center of the mess. Her leg was cold as the splashed coffee soaked into the fabric of her pants. The lights were too bright.

She remained in place as Angela’s response echoed louder and louder in her head.

_“I don’t know.”_

She doesn’t remember how long she stood there.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cog-ni-tive Dis-so-nance _noun psychology_
> 
> In which an individual experiences mental discomfort (psychological stress) when they experience two or more contradicting beliefs, ideas, or values, commonly seen as a belief and a contradictory action. (e.g. Smoking, yet believing that smoking is bad.)
> 
> And so, when one suffers from cognitive dissonance, the question becomes:
> 
> “In order to relieve the discomfort of cognitive dissonance, should the individual change or ignore the contradictory action/information to best match their current beliefs? Should the individual quit smoking to continue following in their beliefs or ultimately justify the action and decide that smoking isn't that bad instead and ignore their beliefs?”
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


	16. But the True Question Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When thoughts and actions begin to change, colors can finally begin to mix.

Things were tense in Overwatch’s research wings.

It was far from unusual for Angela and Moira to be at odds. Both held strong beliefs and strong personalities that occasionally called for bickering at best and raging arguments at worst. Both situations, and every instance in between, called for careful navigation by the many interns and a practiced avoidance by all formal staff. It was best to not get involved in whatever petty squabble the two had gotten themselves into. After all, they normally resolved their issues within the week. Afterward, it would be as if nothing had happened.

Except, this time, as of last week, something had changed. It felt as if everyone was walking on eggshells at every moment so neither would be antagonized.

Both, Angela and Moira, continued with their days as if it were any other. Until the other was mentioned to them directly, indirectly, or they were in each other’s presence. Then, the room felt as if it was freezing.

The fury was nearly palpable when both were in the same room. They refused to look at each other or even acknowledge the other’s existence unless they absolutely had to.

Moira had become more driven and secluded, not even bothering to remain civil with her colleagues unless required. She was curt, cold, and entirely disinterested.

Angela at first appeared to act no differently than usual until the others had seen that while still friendly, any warmth she had, had faded to all but her patients.

There were no quips or sarcastic remarks, and something had shifted, but no one knew what.

-

Intern 27 was at a loss. While not exactly being the intern who has worked here the longest, they were around just long enough to be familiar with Dr. O’Deorain. Moira was focused and hated delays, and so they did their best in staying efficient and not allowing emotion to get in the way of the project. The occasional personal comment made no difference to Moira so long as the work was done correctly and without bias. They tried to guard their words and opinions as much as possible.

After much thought, Intern 27 had carefully expressed an opinion after Moira had stalked the lab in an effort to calm her down…but failed. And Moira had instructed them to get Angela’s signature on some paperwork, instead of a carefully crafted comment on how well the experiment was going, they accidentally wondered aloud on why Angela’s signature was even needed since she has no technical authority in the research division. Angela may be head of Medical, but Medical and R&D were two separate divisions, weren’t they? They held their breath when Moira suddenly glowered at them and then left the room. The air still felt thick for a while longer, even after she had left.  

And maybe that was where things became worse? Things definitely felt worse.

Based on the reactions of Angela’s interns, who had been around much longer, they had seemingly made a mistake. How were they supposed to know that this argument was different than the others? What did they do wrong? It couldn’t have been the comment, could it? It was just a comment. Moira never cared about comments. Why would this one be any different? Angela’s interns never said anything on how to fix this. If that was even possible... 

They could always apologize…except they didn’t know what they’re apologizing for. And Moira hated empty platitudes even more than emotional bias. They’ll just leave things alone and try to stay out of Moira and Angela’s way.

Except Angela’s interns had begun to deliberately avoid everyone as well. Her interns had become difficult to track down. Maybe through a direct order from Angela? From Moira? Or did they avoid them simply because something was wrong between their superiors and they feared becoming involved? Intern 27 didn’t know. They only knew that the sudden isolation was unprecedented and very confusing.

The tension had only grown from that point onward

-

Angela didn’t know what to think.

They still mutually avoided each other. Angela couldn’t bear to look at Moira anymore—not since she dug into Blackwatch’s files. She had nearly thrown up multiple times throughout her investigations, managing to only gag and no further.

This wasn’t even the worst that she had ever seen anyone do. She has genuinely seen worse. War is a brutality that no single man could ever imagine, with crimes very few can conceive, but one in which only the truly heinous revel in. Not even Moira could reach such levels of violence, but the cold calculation almost made it worse. The betrayal was visceral and it still churned her stomach.

She had willingly followed Moira. Admired her. She was so terribly brilliant and ambitious. Always searching and learning beyond the average individual. Completely shameless and uncaring of what others thought of her and her actions. It fascinated her until she realized just how far Moira was willing to go to understand the world. How different they truly were.

But maybe Moira was right. She wanted to think that they were different. That she wouldn’t stoop to such lows just to find new numbers and data to analyze. But…she had. She sold her ideals to Blackwatch.

Resurrection.

She knew exactly why every ethics board she had come across had denied her. There was something fundamentally wrong with reviving the dead. The dead were meant to stay dead. Even the few that had briefly perished, had been changed. No one comes back quite the same.

How do you bring back someone who had been slowly crushed under debris without causing them extreme trauma afterward? She could repair the bodies but their minds were entirely different. What about the ones that had died without even realizing it and had gaps in their memory? They personally didn’t know they had died, only realizing what had happened after someone had told them. The memory gaps were distressing enough but sometimes the body reacted further and caused deeper trauma to the individual.

She had lost her own parents during the war. Seen the loss of many others. People had fallen. Limbs had been lost. Everyone mourned something and someone.

She wanted that to stop. To lessen the mourning. She had suffered alone and next to others. Despite being immensely grateful to the Lindholm’s for their help, and who by all accounts had come out relatively unscathed, even they had their own problems to worry about.

So, she had little choice but to bury herself in her work, determined to lessen the grief of others. Rising the ranks in school and her field, she made breakthroughs in medicine and nanotechnology.

Overwatch had been the greatest boon to her research, supplying her with everything she needed to develop her nanobots and research even further. And in doing so, she had met Moira.

They worked so well together. Their talents blended almost seamlessly in all tasks despite the occasional personality clash.

The nanobots had developed under their combined care. They developed them until they no longer needed to be in a specialized medigel but instead, able to travel freely into someone’s body.

Unfortunately, once they developed the nanobots’ focus in the Valkyrie suit, Overwatch had stagnated her research. She couldn’t move beyond what was already available. With all the red tape, she was only allowed to refine the bots until they were less expensive and less resource intensive as the war raged on. She wanted to not only refine them but to have them work beyond flesh wounds and standard medical treatment.

Overwatch didn’t agree, so she resorted to other methods.

The nanobots as they were, still belonged entirely to her. She simply had a contract with Overwatch allowing their use for the organization within the UN’s regulations. And because they were hers by international law, in private, she could do with them what she will. Coupled with her own funds and resources, she began to inject them into herself with Moira’s assistance. And together, they did the impossible.

Angela now toed the boundaries of mortality and immortality. Pain was still familiar, but the injuries lasted seconds before the nanobots fixed them faster than she ever thought possible. Moira had commented once that only complete incineration could kill her now.

She healed so fast in fact, that while she laughed at being a pile of ash, her head filled with ideas of the dead. And worst of all, her ideas had merit. The test animals were incredibly receptive. With her research and successful self-experimentation, she could successfully bring back all manners of small lab animals so long as they were primed with the bots beforehand. It was then that she then hit a wall. She couldn’t move further without human trials.

Despite her success, she was bound by Overwatch’s contracts to never test on human subjects without their direct approval. The red tape was the bane of her existence. Still, she adhered to their ethics board, believing that unsanctioned experiments only ever led to bad situations. As irritating as it was, she believed it best. She trusted Overwatch to assist in her goals of helping others.

She believed in them, and yet, she was ashamed at how easily she sold her ideals. And Moira was proven right. She was no better. After they had fought that day, she had returned to Blackwatch to take advantage of her contract’s loophole.

On occasion, she would be called in by Gabriel to take care of a patient. In doing so, this made her aware of Blackwatch’s existence, and in turn, their surveillance of her. She may have been bound to secrecy but she also knew that Gabriel operated outside of Overwatch’s confines and had a sort of unofficial approval to do as needed for their goals. Gabriel had as high an authority as Jack, who, more often than not, turned a blind eye. And because of this, he could offer her what Overwatch had denied.

There was no paperwork beyond a temporary agreement hiding her identity, marking her as nothing more than an additional medical staff. The ink had dried before Gabriel had finished his proposal. After all this time, she could finally continue her work. And in doing so, had completely thrown her beliefs out the window.

She trusted Overwatch and yet, she still went behind their backs to get what she wanted.

She doesn’t know how much of that was her desire to help others and how much was her own narcissism.

She had done what Moira had. She had ignored all sense of ethics and pursued the limits of science. It wouldn’t be the first time she had researched without a board’s approval but it would be one of the few times she actively went around and defied the restrictions placed on her work.

She still doesn’t know what to think, especially with her heart constricting with each thought of Moira.

-

Among other things, Moira was mostly disappointed. Disappointed in Angela and in herself.

She knew that Angela had loose morals and was only managed by oath-bound ethics. She was briefly ecstatic that Angela had joined Blackwatch. It would mean that she almost had a kindred spirit. Someone to share the pursuit of knowledge with. Until Angela had let her personal beliefs interfere.

They could have been magnificent together. Angela was a genius. Acknowledging her intellect as anything less would be an immense understatement and an insult. Coupled with her own intelligence, nothing was beyond their grasp. Unfortunately, Angela’s drive to succeed had its limits. Moira and her work were that limit.

Naturally, she was angry. She and her work had been slighted and she was not prepared to be under scrutiny once again. It was not the first time and she was certain it will not be the last, but she was wholly unprepared for Angela’s direct involvement.

She was no stranger to the looks of distrust and judgment. As a child, she had unconventional interests and a ferocity for consuming knowledge in all its forms, regardless of consequence, and it only continued into adulthood. She never strayed from her path of science. Her desires only grew stronger as time went on.

University was simple for the likes of her.

Finding funding was a bit trickier.

Her research was always unorthodox and to many, inappropriate. She kept the best bits to herself, presenting only what a board would deem acceptable. It was much easier to continue her preferred research in secret if no one directly questioned what was being studied.

Overwatch had become a thorn in her side.

They had excellent funding but, the legality of everything was immensely problematic. She wanted to study and learn and create, but it was impossible with Overwatch breathing down her neck and restricting her every move.

Blackwatch was better but no less irritating.

When Overwatch came to close to uncovering her secrets, Reyes became a convenient escape route. He did not question her motives, only stepping between her and Morrison. Reyes had his own motives with keeping her work under the radar. She had no issue with it. Everyone had their goals, and if his goals just happened to involve letting her work, then just as well. She was tied to Blackwatch, and so long as she did not cause too much trouble, they would continue to back her. That is, until she could find equal or greater funding with little to no strings attached, of course.

Angela was right in that she did not particularly care about her test subjects or even those under her direct supervision, as evidenced by her immediate acceptance of Reyes taking and redirecting blame. Everyone was a means to an end. All her subjects had a purpose and she did her best to have them achieve that purpose. They were fed and cared for accordingly. They bathed and rested between trials. She kept them all in top form. If her test subjects suffered beyond the trials themselves, then they were useless.

She never had a shortage of subjects — animal or human.

Animals were easiest to acquire. There was always a breeder somewhere willing to part with a few of them for the right price. Animals were predictable. They always behaved as expected. No such thing as complex emotions beyond instinctual reactions to interfere with the beginnings of her studies.

Humans were much trickier. Willing subjects were always few and far between. When she did have a human or two to work with, they tended to complain. They were needy and required more effort to keep healthy for the trials. And when put in the trials, they were erratic and more likely to let their thoughts and emotions distract them.

She did not question where her human subjects came from. Reyes simply provided a group of them when requested. If Reyes was aware that her intentions were not the most honest or humane, well, he had yet to say anything.  

She regretted having Angela see the results of her trials. It was a stupid and careless mistake. She honestly never expected Angela to find her logs. And now, because of her own arrogance, she had been placed under scrutiny and she may have lost Angela in the process.

She had few things she cared for and many more things she could not care less about. She did not lose things she cared about or wanted. She threw them away, left them behind, or destroyed them, but she never lost them. It was a point of pride to have such control over the things in her life. It left little to chance and even fewer surprises.

Losing things was unappealing. Losing a test subject posed problems. Losing items caused a dip in her wallet. Losing status created obstacles.

Losing Angela was something she had never experienced. And it had done something visceral to her that was novel and difficult to understand.

It was becoming more aggravating with each passing day.

-

Intern 27 was nervous.

Despite many weeks having passed, Moira and Angela were still at odds. According to the interns’ records, their longest argument hadn’t even lasted a week. Currently, it had been close to a month and neither had shown any give.

Moira’s patience had worn thin and she was developing a temper. She never yelled but had become less willing to forgive any transgressions and mistakes.

They were unsure of when she would finally snap at them. They had stopped talking unless absolutely necessary to prevent any reprimand.

Angela had become quieter and more reserved. Her office and lab would have been a ghost town without her interns and patients. The lack of energy thoroughly unnerved Intern 27.

Needing Angela’s signature on a couple more documents, Intern 27 was on their way towards her office. It should have been an easy task: continue down the hall, knock on the third door on the left, go in, hand Angela the holopad, get her signature, get out. Simple. Until they heard a recognizable set of footsteps echo in the empty halls that made their heart pound.

The long strides were familiar enough that Intern 27 ducked into the nearest doorway to avoid being spotted. Luckily, it was a storage closet and not a janitor’s closet. Those were never the most spacious.

Cracking open the door, they peered out and as they suspected, Moira had appeared and was heading straight towards Angela’s office. Oddly enough, Moira stepped right in without knocking. She also lacked her lab coat and only had a standard shirt and tie. It was a social call.

Prior to the current situation, it wasn’t strange to have them go into each other’s areas with no apparent warning. It made no difference whether or not they were fighting. They always spent time in each other’s personal and professional spaces as if they belonged there. And in reality, they probably did.

Now, both would outright avoid each other if at all possible. The lack of communication had left the interns to rely on their own channels to warn each other of an impending meeting…and then hide if need be.

However, with Moira ignoring all pretenses of forced civility and no longer knocking, Intern 27 quickly tapped out a message to the other interns on their holopad. They needed to redirect all traffic away from Angela’s office as much as possible.

If Moira had walked right in and Angela hadn’t immediately thrown her out, then maybe, just maybe, things were going back to normal.

They took a deep breath, then steeled their nerves. They snuck out of the closet and as far away from the hallway as possible.

Intern 27 could only hope things got better. They didn’t know how much longer they’d be able to keep this up. Hiding places were becoming harder to come by.

-

Seeing Moira step inside her office without restriction hit her with a pang of longing. She looked normal. Black slacks, green shirt, black tie, hair impeccable. If Moira’s shirt was a few shades darker, then it would match Angela’s sweater. If Angela tried, she could almost pretend they intentionally matched and nothing was wrong…almost.

Before the intrusion, Angela had been sitting at her desk. Leaning back into her chair, her left arm was bent on the armrest, propping up her head with her cheek resting on a loose fist. Her right hand stretched across the opposite rest. It was a comfortable chair.

It did nothing to make her comfortable.

Keeping her gaze low, she didn’t move as Moira walked towards her. She moved around Angela’s desk and if Angela didn’t know any better, she would say that Moira was absent minded in her strides. But she did know better. Moira may, on occasion, let herself devolve to instinct, but it was only ever purposeful.

Moira stopped right next to her outstretched arm. She leaned against the edge of her desk and crossed her arms. She was very close. If Angela stretched her hand just a bit to the side, she would be able to touch the side of Moira’s leg.

They had yet to properly look at each other.

Angela waited until Moira broke the silence.

“What do you want me to be?”

It was an easy question with a simple enough answer, “I want you to be moral and good.”

“What do you need me to be?”

It was an easy question with a more difficult answer, “I need you as you are with less secrets.”

Moira hummed in thought as she digested Angela’s answers. Angela continued to wait.

“I cannot be both, and there is only one that I could potentially be.”

“I know...”

“It will involve adjustments to your beliefs…and my own.”

“…I know.”

“We can end this stalemate in one of two ways. One: we separate and maintain a civil working partnership and nothing else. You can remain honest and I can continue as I was. Nothing will change,” Angela closed her eyes and held her breath. The possibility hurt more than she would like to admit.

“Two: we remain together and sort through our differences like proper adults. You will need to lie and I will need to confide in you more. Change is all but guaranteed,” Angela released her breath, slow and easy. She knew what answer she would give to Moira. It wasn’t as difficult a choice as she initially assumed.

Moira dropped her arms until they rested at her sides, her hand stopping next to her own. She needed to hear Moira ask her question.

“How do you want me?”

Angela had tracked the sound of rustling fabric when Moira had uncrossed her arms, and habit told her that if she stretched over, she could thread their fingers together. She turned her hand over, palm facing upwards, and reached. Her grip was strong and without any hesitation.

“I want you as I need you.”

When she felt Moira match her strength, fingers wrapped around her own, she smiled and let their hands hang between them.

They’d leave all further discussion for tomorrow. But for now, they had come to an agreement.

-

_“What will happen to us now, dear one?”_

_“We’ll be okay, Liebling.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so concludes what the Interns now refer to as "The Great Fight".
> 
> Took some effort, but I managed to wrangle enough free time to actually finish these two chapters. I actually had one large file to keep them together, but split them in the update because I'm a sucker for some pointless drama. I didn't want the wait to be too long between them so I decided to only put them up once both parts were complete.
> 
> Also fun fact:
> 
> Intern 27 is gender queer because of a typo. Back when I was writing and editing the POZ, my sister was doing her rounds of editing and noticed there was a weird pronoun/sentence issue. The pronouns had gotten all mangled up and the sentence structure was near unintelligible with the only surviving pronoun being a gender neutral one. She asked if I intended to make Intern 27 gender queer on purpose, was some weird typo, or just a mess of gibberish from deleting, rewriting, and splicing sentences. At the time I was pretty sure that I had given Intern 27 a set gender, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember what (A dude maybe? I tend to flip a coin or something when deciding character traits...). I didn't bother changing it from they/them to anything else because it kinda felt right after I cleaned up the sentence. Thus, the birth to nonbinary Intern 27. Who then had a mental breakdown and had to be let go. Poor Intern 27.
> 
> Drop me a line if you'd like. :)


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